


Gold, Vine, and the Things We Leave Behind

by TheSecondQueenOfSol



Series: 'Gold, Vine' Universe [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling, The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Millie gets more than she bargained for, Millie is really powerful and people are either jealous or nervous, Millie is the centre but HB is our fave, Millie makes some Hogwarts friends, Millie the matchmaker, also Harry became a teacher not an Auror because obviously, including a girlfriend, or Both, this is a crossover not an au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-12 11:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15338721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSecondQueenOfSol/pseuds/TheSecondQueenOfSol
Summary: Mildred Hubble promised her mum that fourth year was going to be totally normal. No magic ice, no evil twins, nothing. She spoke way too soon.Or, the one where Millie has to juggle a magical tournament she only just learned about, and trying to get HB and Miss Pentangle to just kiss already. Any guesses as to which will be harder?





	1. Friends, Old and New

**Author's Note:**

> I read a post about Professor McGonagall having a secret wife, and I was hit in the face with an idea for a hicsqueak HP/Worst Witch crossover, and well, here it is. Happy to answer any questions you have on the worlds and how they fit together, etc. This is set around 2019/2020, with fairly faithful Worst Witch (2017) and Harry Potter canon, and very flexible Cursed Child canon.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! Feel free to hit me up @themistsoftime on tumblr

“Millie come on!” Enid hollered, and Millie looked up to find her friends racing down the corridor toward her. “You’re late!”

“Late? For what?” Millie blinked, gut sinking.

“The meeting in the hall!”

Oh? Oh… she’d completely forgotten about that.

Maud just grabbed her hand and together they raced down the stairs, clattering to a halt in the entrance to the Hall.

The school was seated, and all eyes turned to them. Well, all eyes except HB’s.

“Mildred Hubble, Maud Spellbody, and Enid Nightshade,” HB drawled, still not bothering to meet their gaze. “So glad you could join us.”

“Sorry, Miss Hardbroom,” Millie ducked her head and scurried to the closest free seat, sinking into it and silently begging everyone to stop looking at her.

“Now that we are _all_ here, Miss Cackle will speak, and you will listen,” HB articulated every word perfectly, though there was something off about her voice. Something uncomfortable, but Millie couldn’t pin it down.

The room was very still, and she was suddenly very afraid she’d done something terrible and completely forgotten about that too.

“Thank you, Miss Hardbroom,” Miss Cackle smiled, taking the podium and looking over the girls with her usual soft cheer. “I have some very exciting news.”

The room let out a collective sigh of relief and HB’s frown deepened.

“As I’m sure you are all aware, the Magic Council of the Ministry of Magic has decreed a revival of a great magical tradition, a competition held among the witching and wizarding academies of Europe; the Triwizard Tournament.”

The room erupted into whispers, and Millie looked around, trying to pick up what frantic whispers she could. Miss Cackle let the excitement die down in its own time, and Millie still didn’t understand.

“It will no longer be only the largest witching and wizarding schools invited to attend, but instead three competitor schools will be chosen at random for each new tournament. This year, Cackle’s Academy has been invited to host first of this new series of Triwizard Tournaments, and we have accepted.”

Mildred looked to Enid’s devious grin with confusion.

“The bi wizard what?”

Maud shushed her with a hand to her mouth. “I’ll explain later.”

“The Magic Council has made it very clear that this competition shall be a battle of intellect and strategy rather than witless courage or survival. As such, all students have been invited to submit their names to the Triwizard Cup.”

The room erupted into barely contained whispers and HB shot up from her seat.

“Quiet!” she commanded, and quiet fell. She nodded to Ada stiffly, and lowered herself back down.

“For the duration of the tournament, we will play host to two guest schools, both of whom will submit their own candidates to the Triwizard Cup. This year we will be joined by students from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Miss Pentangle’s Academy of Magic.”

Mildred looked about and found Felicity was on the verge of fainting, or perhaps or tears, she couldn’t quite tell. Ethel hadn’t taken a single breath since the announcement and was rapidly turning purple.

“Cackle’s will be expanded to accommodate, and the selected students from Hogwarts and Pentangle’s will be integrated into life at Cackle’s until the tournament is concluded. I expect you all to welcome our guests with a smile, remembering that they are far away from home.”

*** 

“They used to hold them every five years, between the same three schools, but students kept on dying so they stopped. And they tried to bring it back, and then a student died again so they stopped… again,” Enid seemed almost bored with the idea as she recited the history, hanging upside down off the back of Millie’s bed.

“Why are they bringing it back again, then?” Millie found this all very confusing, not to mention slightly worrying.

“It sounds like it’s going to be less dragons and mazes and more of a Spelling Bee type thing, you know?” Maud said, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she flipped through their homework.

“Yeah, I guess,” though Millie wasn’t convinced. I mean, if people had literally _died_ before…

“Are you going to enter?” Maud asked Enid.

“Yeah, of course. Eternal glory and all that. What about you?”

“I haven’t decided. I mean, we don’t even know if we’ll get chosen.”

“Yeah, all the more reason to try. Leave it up to the Triwizard Cup.”

“What about you, Millie?” Enid looked over to her.

“I don’t know. I definitely wouldn’t win, so I should probably let someone else try.”

“Who says you wouldn’t win?” Maud asked. “You won the spelling bee.”

“Ethel won the Spelling Bee. I was just there.”

“I don’t care how you won. You still won,” Enid declared with finality. “Come on Millie, we can all go in together and then we’ll cheer for each other, no matter what. And if Ethel gets in, we’ll steal Pentangle uniforms and boo her.”

Millie cracked a smile. Chances were, Ethel would win. Maybe having to compete wouldn’t be so bad, if it meant Ethel didn’t get to stalk around in the Champion’s robes.

***

Today was the day, and Mildred knew it, because nobody had let her forget.

They’d spent yesterday cleaning and decorating the entire school, shifting the tables in the great hall into three rows, and moving extra beds to their rooms. Three to a room, Miss Cackle had instructed, and Mildred’s shoebox had become smaller still. She didn’t mind so much. She was actually really excited to meet her new bunkmates. She just wasn’t keen for everyone to ask her name, and to wonder aloud why they’d never heard it before.

But it couldn’t be avoided now, because they were already on their way.

HB seemed tenser than usual, and bit back at any nonsense with an iron jaw. Despite her foul mood, however, she’d allowed all students not otherwise occupied to meet their guests as they arrived.

So there Millie was, with Maud and Enid jumping out of their skins beside her, theorizing about how the other schools would travel.

Just as Maud was insisting they would all just have to fly, and there was nothing wrong with flying, a ball of pink light came gliding down from the clear sky above. Felicity giggled a little too enthusiastically as the ball of light burst and grew into the body of Miss Pentangle, splendid in flowing pink robes and a classic, pointy pink hat. Millie was happy to see her, but also thoroughly confused. Wasn’t there supposed to be a ton of Pentangle students with her?

As if in answer, another ball of bright light floated down from above, and another, and another, until it was like a waterfall of will-o'-the-wisps drifting toward Cackle’s. As each one hit the ground it burst and grew into a student in a crisp Pentangle’s uniform, smiling giddily.

Miss Pentangle walked smartly toward the waiting Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom, and greeted them with a kiss on the cheek and a bright smile.

Millie heard HB mumble something about “…a waste of magic”, but Miss Pentangle only tweaked her nose affectionately.

“But it was fun.”

“Yes, well…”

Miss Hardbroom barely had time to purse her lips before the deafening whistle of a train cut her off. Millie’s head snapped around, looking the source, but found nothing. There was no trains nearby, only a rapidly expanding cloud of fog billowing ominously across the lawn. All eyes turned to see what it was, and why it had…

An enormous scarlet steam engine burst from the fog with a deafening whistle, trundling across the grass onto a self-replicating track. The students that didn’t scream gasped, and HB looked about to strangle someone.

“And you thought I was dramatic,” Miss Pentangle said not quite quietly enough. “Have you forgotten how Headmistress McGonagall likes her flair?”

“I would hardly call it flair, Pippa.”

“I would,” Miss Cackle chimed in with a smile. “And I quiet like it.”

With another billow of steam, the train, market in large gold letters as the Hogwarts Express, came to a smooth stop in front of the hyperventilating Pentangle’s students.

A door in the front carriage slide back, and from the train leapt… a cat? A tabby cat, specifically.

Millie blinked. She could see faces shifting behind the windows, why was a cat the first one out?

She almost swallowed her tongue when the cat began to pad softly towards Miss Cackle and the teachers, and then in two sharp strides the cat’s form shifted and grew into the most elegant, distinguished witch she had ever seen. Well, in truth, the most distinguished woman she had ever seen. Her robes were emerald green, her wide pointy hat the perfect match, and her step so certain and her face so firmly set Millie wondered if she was related to HB.

Miss Cackle didn’t blink, even as Felicity squealed and the rest of the students gasped their admiration. She simply raised a hand to her forehead and smiled.

“Well met, Headmistress McGonagall.”

The woman, McGonagall, returned the greeting. “Well met, Headmistress Cackle, Headmistress Pentangle, Miss Hardbroom.”

There was much greeting and bowing and then suddenly Miss Pentangle stepped forward and enveloped McGonagall in a tight hug, which she accepted, albeit a little surprised.

“I’m so glad to see you.”

“As I am,” McGonagall smiled warmly, before letting the pink witch go. “Now, shall I release the stampede?”

“It must be done,” Miss Cackle nodded, eyes smiling.

McGonagall turned and slipped a wand from her sleeve, a beautiful, thin rod of wood, and flicked it smartly. A temporary platform sprung into existence and began building itself from thin air, levelling with the train cars.

Millie couldn’t say why, because she didn’t really know, but she like this woman already.

*** 

“Elspeth McGonagall,” the girl held out her hand, and Mildred took it with a grin.

“Mildred Hubble.” Millie let go and touched her hand to her forehead. “Well met.”

“Well met,” Elspeth mirrored. “You’re year four as well, right?”

“Yeah.”

Elspeth bounced excitedly into their room and the bed opposite Mildred’s, flopping down.

“Where are you from?”

“Just down the mountain,” Millie replied, sitting back onto her own bed. “McGonagall, right. Is that like, as in the Hogwarts’ Headmistress?”

Elspeth lifted herself onto her elbow. “Yeah, she’s my great aunt.”

Millie’s eyes flicked over her uniform. “But you go to Pentangle’s?”

“Yeah, long story, but Pentangle’s is closer, and my mum is friends with Miss Pentangle. Plus it’s a good school.”

“Cool.”

There was another knock at the door, and Millie jumped up to pull it open, revealing a gangly red head in Hogwarts colours with a heavy trunk and cheerful smile.

“You must be Mildred,” she said brightly, holding out a hand.

“Yeah,” Millie nodded, taking the hand and then pulling the door back. “And you must be our third roommate.”

“Rose. Rose Granger-Weasley. Pleased to meet you.”

“Rose is that…?” Elspeth leapt of the bed and enveloped Rose in a hug. “It’s been forever.”

“Oh… you guys know each other?” Millie blinked at their familiarity, suddenly feeling like a third wheel in her own bedroom.

“I mean, only because her great aunt taught my parents,” Rose admitted, dragging her trunk to the end of the third bed.

“Come on, I have snacks. I want to hear all about Cackle’s. We should get to know each other if we’re living here for a semester.”

Millie suddenly felt very silly for the twinge of doubted that she’d felt seconds earlier.

Elspeth reached into her pack and pulled out a paper bag. “Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, anyone?”

Rose grinned and unzipped her trunk, lifting out a heavy bag and spilling the contents onto the bed. It was very bright and lively and it took Millie a second to realise that they were all sweets. All of them. Every single one.

Elspeth rolled her eyes good naturedly. “Show off.”

“Where did you get all this?” Millie gasped, looking to Rose’s very satisfied grin.

“My uncle and dad kind of own a joke and sweet shop.”

Millie grinned.

“You don’t say,” Elspeth reached over, but Rose slapped her hand away gently.

“Millie chooses first.”

“Oh, umm…” Millie looked over the sweets, eyes wide. “What’s good? I’ve never had any of these.”

“Try a Fizzing Whizzbee,” Rose said, slipping one into her hand. “Everyone loves them. Okay Elsie, go ahead.”

Elspeth practically dived at the sweets, grabbing something in a pentagonal box and retreating to her bed.

Millie popped the Fizzing Whizzbee into her mouth and her eyes grew very wide as it burst and stung on her tongue, explosions of flavour turning her mouth into a carnival.

“Whoa,” she breathed, grinning at Rose. “That was awesome.”

Rose just laughed, flipping open her trunk and beginning to unpack into the draws nearby. “Have another, if you want.”

Elspeth groaned and dropped the box she’d grabbed to the floor. “Damn.”

“Who’d you get?” Rose asked over her shoulder.

“Just your mum. I’ve been looking for Luna Lovegood, but apparently they stopped making her.”

Millie reached down and picked up the box, flipping it over to find a portrait of a smiling witch and the name ‘Hermione Granger’ printed across the top.

_Current Minister for Magic and distinguished recipient of the Order of Merlin, Hermione Granger…_

“Wait, your mum is the Minister for Magic?” Millie’s head snapped up to find Rose still stacking her clothes neatly.

“Yep,” she said coolly.

“Sorry, I just… didn’t know.”

“You know,” Rose turned to her and smiled. “She’s Muggle-born too. Like you.”

Millie shrunk into herself, dropping the box to the bed, and Rose’s smile faltered.

“I heard that insufferable Ethel Hallow talking, trying to spread things about you. She’s kinda horrible.”

Millie laughed. “Yeah, she’s like that all the time. But umm… well, I’m not really Muggle-born. Ethel is kind of in denial, but my ancestors were witches. They gave up twelve generations of magic to restore a Founding Stone, and my family kind of forgot about magic until I was born.”

Millie looked up to find Elspeth and Rose staring at her.

“That is so cool,” Elspeth breathed. “I mean, not for twelve generations of witches, but like, she fixed a Founding Stone? That’s insane.”

“That’s crazy,” Rose said, abandoning her clothes and retrieving a bag of fudge from the pile. She sat down beside Millie, munching on a cube, and offered the open bag. “How did you figure it out?”

***

“All at once, okay?” Maud instructed, eyeing Millie’s reluctant nod.

The Triwizard Cup’s translucent bowl glinting as the blue flames danced within, casting long shadows where the firelight didn’t reach.

“Okay,” Millie breathed.

“Just get on with it,” Ethel sneered from a nearby table, and her clique giggled. She’d already gathered up a group of followers from Pentangle’s and Hogwarts, and Millie didn’t much like the look of any of them.

“Shut up, Ethel,” Rose bit back from where she and Elsie waited. Ethel coloured and gave her a venomous look, but said nothing.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Millie gritted her teeth. She’d show Ethel. She had to.

“One, two, three…” Enid counted down, and they all dropped their names in unison. The cup flared up and Millie breathed deeply.

Now it was out of her hands.

***

“To the witch or wizard who wins the tournament, the Triwizard Cup, 1000 galleons, and a name remembered through the ages. To those who lose, knowledge that of everyone in this room, the Triwizard Cup chose you, and the lessons you had learned along the way. And to us all, the spectacle of a lifetime.”

Miss Cackle stood at the podium, Triwizard Cup burning bright beside her, three long tables of students clambering to see her better, and at her back, a long row of solemn faced teachers.

Among them sat the Hogwarts’s Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Harry Potter, the last and only surviving winner of the Triwizard Tournament, though he would have given almost anything to lose.

As Miss Cackle spoke, he was so deeply thankful to her for coming and asking whether he wanted to be mentioned. And he was even more grateful of how graciously accepting she’d been when he had said please, he’d rather nobody knew, and those who did, to please keep it to themselves. Surely some students would remember, or figure it out, but no big speeches, no accolades.

In his mind, he hadn’t won at all. In his mind, he had lost, and that’s all anyone needed to remember.

***

Mildred twisted in her seat for a better look at Miss Cackle as she hovered her hand over the goblet, the flames leaping up and spitting out a small square of paper, sending it drifting down into her hand.

Miss Cackle caught it with ease and her eyes darted over the name written there.

“The Champion from Miss Pentangle’s Academy for Magic… is Elspeth McGonagall.”

The room erupted into cheers, Pentangle’s loudest of all, and Miss Pentangle tried very hard to bite back a very large, slightly relieved grin. Professor McGonagall’s eyes grew very wide as they flicked to her niece, and then steadied, sighing in defeat. The cup had chosen, and no one could change its decision.

Elsie stood, a huge grin painted across her face, and practically bounced her way across the hall, disappearing down the stairs to the room Miss Cackle had indicated earlier.

As the cheers died down, Miss Cackle reached back into the flames and the cup flared once again, spitting out another corner of paper.

“The Champion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… is Scorpius Malfoy.”

More cheering, mostly from the Hogwarts students in green. Millie looked about and found one white haired boy being clapped roughly on the back, pale face almost translucent, no joy in his expression. The boy beside him, in green robes too, lay a hand on his back in comfort and whispered something in his ear. Scorpius nodded and seemed to relax at that, standing awkwardly and walking toward the room beyond, students clapping him on all the way until he almost grinned before disappearing beyond the doorframe.

The Cup flared again, one last time. Miss Cackle caught the last piece of paper and the lines on her face twitched almost imperceptibly.

“And finally, the last Champion of the Triwizard Tournament, the Champion of Cackle’s Academy for Witches… is Mildred Hubble.”

Millie’s stomach plunged through the floor, and the smile fell from her face. Around her, the hall erupted into more cheers, and people began pulling her up and slapping her on the back.

“Millie, that’s you!” Rose grinned, pulling her up as Enid gave her a hug, but she was too shocked to hug her back.

“Go on.”

Millie glanced to the teachers table and found Miss Pentangle staring at her with a gentle, very pleased smile as she clapped along with the staff. She gave her a wink, and Millie’s grin returned to her face.

HB, on the other hand, was very pale, and very still. But with everyone cheering and pushing her toward the door, she could barely register it, and when the door shut behind her, and she was alone in the cold stairway, she slumped against the wall.

“You weren’t supposed to actually choose me!” Millie said to no one in particular, letting her face fall into her hands.

“You too, ha?” a voice from the dark asked and Millie jumped. “I only put my name in because Albus wanted to go in together. I didn’t think it would actually _choose_ me.”

Millie peered into the dark and found the silver haired boy, Scorpius, sitting on the stairs below. She pulled herself up and slid down to meet him.

“I’m kind of… I’m the worst witch. That’s what everyone calls me. So, I mean, unless you’re the worst wizard, you’re definitely going to beat me.”

“The worst witch, ha?” Scorpius smiled. “I like it. But I can’t very well call you that, can I?”

Millie offered a hand. “Mildred Hubble. Millie, if you want.”

“Scorpius Malfoy. Just Scorpius.”

In the dim light of the stairs, Millie took a proper look at him. His hair was white blonde and slicked back, but not quiet perfectly. His robes were a little too short, and a little scruffy, and Millie realised they were probably second hand, like hers. But his lopsided, nervous grin was charming, and he seemed earnest, even if they barely knew each other.

“We should probably go see Elsie. She might be wondering where we are.”

“Elspeth McGonagall, right?” Scorpius asked, standing and offering Millie a hand up. “Like Headmistress McGonagall’s niece?”

“Yeah,” Millie nodded as they descended the stairs.

“Well, if you’re the worst witch and I’m me, I guess we have a winner. Might as well just give her the cup now.”

Millie grinned. “Nah. We’ve got to try, at least, right?”

Scorpius nodded. “I will if you do. Deal?”

“Deal.”

***

Mildred could hardly believe she was doing this. Stealing was one thing. Stealing from HB was something else entirely, and not a good kind of something else. Yet here she was, running her fingers over the jars in the storeroom, looking for more ground raven feather. HB wouldn’t be happy she was stealing, but surely she’d be happy she was practicing potions for the Tournament, right? That’s what Millie was telling herself. Anything to balance the dread that was pooling in her stomach.

That’s when she heard it. The soft whoosh of a Transference.

“Yes, well unfortunately I have trio of my own.”

 _HB!_ Mildred blew out her candle and prayed HB didn’t need the storeroom.

“Come, Hecate. I’m sure you’d miss them if they went away.”

_Headmistress McGonagall?_

HB grumbled something indiscernible, before…

“And how exactly did you keep track of yours?”

“I didn’t. Just kept them on their toes. Made certain they were never quite sure of how much I knew.”

“And how did that turn out?” Hecate’s voice was almost sarcastic. Almost.

“Well, Granger is shaping up to be an exceptional Minister for Magic, Weasley has raised two outstanding children and I believe his book has just hit number one on the _Daily Prophet_ bestseller list, and of course, Professor Potter is hands down the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher I’ve ever worked with.”

“Potter was a member of your trio?”

“Indeed.”

Mildred heard a gentle chuckle, and she was sure if it was HB or McGonagall. Surely HB didn’t _chuckle_?

“I must say, I hate the thought of Mildred Hubble teaching anyone.”

Mildred’s heart lurched. She was talking about her. She was talking about Maud and Enid. She was… she didn’t think she should be a teacher. She’d think even less if she knew Millie was eavesdropping.

“I mean no offense, of course,” HB continued. “But she is destined for far greater things.”

“I take no offense at all, Hecate. Potter met his destiny head on, and now he’s having some well-deserved rest.”

Mildred’s head ducked with a smile. _Far greater things…_ She was going to prove HB right if it was the last thing she did.

And then Millie remembered where she was. The potions storeroom… _the potions storeroom_. She spun as quietly as possible and scanned the shelves. There, up the back. Small vials of prepared potions. She scanned the labels hurriedly. There, Invisibility Potion. That would work.

She uncorked it, and took a quick swig, slipping it back onto the shelf before the transparency crept up her skin and enveloped her hand. She’d left the storeroom door open, thank Merlin, and she slipped out with ease, almost reaching the door, doing her best to ignore the conversation before…

“And what about you and Pippa?”

Millie’s ears were suddenly, and very involuntarily, wide open.

“What about me and Pippa?” HB was defensive, back straight as an iron rod.

“Oh come on, Hecate,” McGonagall relaxed back into the seat at Hecate’s desk. “We’ve fought wars together. Don’t lie to me.”

_Fought wars together? What wars?_

The words came very quietly, so quietly Millie almost missed them. She should have missed them. She shouldn’t have been listening.

“It’s happening again.”

She should go. She wasn’t meant to hear this.

“What’s happening again, dear?”

“I’m falling in love with her.”

_HB was… in love… with Miss Pentangle?_

McGonagall let out a small sigh. “I thought that might be the case. Though I might add, that doesn’t sound like a problem to me.”

HB seemed to vibrate, and Millie realised she was shaking, but not from the cold.

“How could it not be a problem, Minerva? She was my best friend, and I left her. And somehow she has forgiven me. And she is my best friend again. And again I have betrayed that friendship with these… feelings.”

HB spat out the last word, and Millie’s felt the weight of sorrow in her words.

“Hecate Hardbroom,” McGonagall sat up and scowled at her. “If you do not let yourself feel these things, one day you’ll break yourself in two trying to keep them at bay.”

“I already have, Professor…” HB sunk into the seat opposite her, and Millie thought it looked very much like a student confiding in her teacher. Hecate sighed deeply. “Sorry, Minerva. An old habit.”

“You haven’t called me that in years.”

“I haven’t seen you in years.”

“A fair observation. But I must ask, Hecate. What will you do?”

HB was silent, and McGonagall leant forward.

“Don’t you dare run away again, Hecate. Or you will have me to contend with.”

HB suddenly sat very straight, and nodded, lips twitching.

“Just because I care for you, don’t think I won’t hex you into the next dimension.”

Millie fled to the door and realised with a sinking stomach that she couldn’t open it without revealing herself. But maybe, if she could trick someone else into opening it…

Millie raised her hand, took in a deep breath, and knocked briskly on the door.

HB was on her feet in seconds. “Speaking of hexing people into the next dimension.”

Millie shrunk against the wall and waited for HB to transfer from where she stood and yank the door open, and finding nothing, storm into the corridor. Millie slipped out and dashed as quietly as possible in the opposite direction.

She heard HB mutter something about detentions and the door clipped shut behind her.

***

If it hadn’t been for Felicity’s blog, Mildred would have had no idea who Professor Potter was beyond the DADA teacher of Hogwarts. But thankfully, Felicity had dropped a line about The Boy Who Lived and Millie had done some digging, and realised very quickly that there was a lot of magical history people considered old news that was barely older than she was.

The more she read about him, and how he grew up with ordinary people like her, and how he’d found out he was magical at the same age she had, the more she thought she’d very much like to speak with him. And, well, he was here, living at Cackle’s during the Tournament, so why couldn’t she?

That Thursday afternoon, she found herself tagging along behind a determined Felicity as she barrelled down the corridor toward Professor Potter and Professor Longbottom, who were engrossed in a very animated conversation.

“You just have to be direct, okay Millie. You know what you want, and you can ask for it.”

And with those words they came face to face with The Boy Who Lived and Professor Longbottom, both of whom looked rather taken aback by Felicity’s interruption.

“Professor, do you think I could get an interview?” Felicity asked, and Millie knew this was an occasion on which she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Professor Potter was still smiling, but he suddenly looked very tired. “I’m sorry, Felicity, but I think…”

“Pardon, Professor Potter, but I meant Professor Longbottom,” Felicity smiled, eyes locking with Longbottom’s. “Everyone is talking about your battling that rabid Mandrake-Centaur hybrid in the Gardens last month.”

“Oh?” Potter’s grin shifted and was quickly very genuine.

“I don’t know about…” Longbottom looked to Potter, uncertain, almost apologetic.

“What he means is he would absolutely love to,” Professor Potter lay a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Would now be okay?”

“Absolutely,” Felicity nodded, pen poised over her Mag-let.

“Go on then, Neville. Can’t keep the press waiting.”

Mildred watched Professor Longbottom give a small smile, and allow himself to be lead away by an already chattering Felicity.

Potter wore a wide grin as he turned back to Millie.

“And what can I do for you?”

“Professor, I was just wondering,” Millie began, already unsure of the practicalities of asking. “I’m Mildred. Millie Hubble.”

“I know,” the Professor smiled.

“You do?” Millie gawked.

“Yes, you’re the Cackle’s Champion, am I right?”

“Oh right, yeah, yeah I am. See, I was reading about you a bit. I didn’t grow up in the magical world is all, and I don’t really know much about…”

Professor Potter lay a hand on her shoulder. “How about we get a cup of tea, Mildred. I’m parched.”

Millie just nodded with a grin and he lead her down the corridor toward the Hall, inviting her to ask all the questions she wanted.

Millie was very pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to talk to the Professor. She began to think of him less as The Boy Who Lived, and then less as Harry Potter, and eventually he was just Professor Potter, and he seemed perfectly content being just that.

He gave her some incredibly solid advice on trusting herself and her friends, and actually doing her homework on time (she sensed that might have been the ‘Professor’ part shining through). Eventually, talk turned to magic and wands and wizard staffs, and Millie began speaking thoughts she’d hardly articulate to her own friends.

“HB says my magic is unfocused, undisciplined. But if it’s so unfocused, why can’t I have a wand or a staff to help? What would be so terrible about breaking traditions that nobody likes anyway?”

“It’s funny,” the Professor sipped his tea thoughtfully. “At Hogwarts, doing magic without a wand is considered an incredible feet of power. I think we all just got so used to wielding magic through a wand, we forgot we could do it without. And the way you speak of HB, it sounds to me as though she values that discipline, and the freedom that comes with wandless magic.”

“But I’m just not as powerful as HB. She can just transfer here and there, and maybe I’m just not built for it.”

“What do you think your teacher’s would say if you had a wand?”

“I don’t think Miss Cackle would mind. HB would probably give me detention for life, though.”

“Well, I hate to undermine your teacher...”

Mildred’s frown pulled into a grin as Professor Potter placed his teacup down.

“There’s someone I have to ask about it first, but what are you doing this afternoon?”

“Nothing. I’ve got a free period.”

The Professor nodded, lips pulling into a soft smile.

“Put your things away and meet me in the courtyard.”

“For what?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

***

Sure enough, when Mildred hurried out into the courtyard a few minutes later, Professor Potter was waiting with two long travelling cloaks over his arm.

“What did they say?” Mildred was bursting with curiosity.

“She said it would be better to ask forgiveness than permission. Here.”

He waved his wand and the two travelling cloaks wrapped themselves around each of their shoulders.

“Tell me, when was the last time you visited Diagon Alley?”

“Oh… umm… never?”

The Professor paused and examined her expression.

“Then this shall certainly be interesting. Take my hand. Have you ever experienced Apparition before?”

“Apparition? Is that like Transference?”

“Similar principle. Transference is a lot harder to achieve, and requires a lot more focus and power. Apparition is far more unpleasant, but it gets the job done.”

“Okay,” Mildred nodded, not much liking the sound of that.

“Take my hand, and hold tight,” the Professor instructed, and Mildred gripped as tightly as she could without crushing his fingers.

With a soft pop, they swirled and blinked out of existence.


	2. Vine and Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is entirely self-indulgent, but this whole fic is also entirely self-indulgent so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I hope you enjoy!

Mildred staggered hard when she hit solid ground, wrists jarring as she stumbled into a wall, vision spinning and stomach threatening to empty itself in anger.

That was so much worse than Transference.

A gentle hand gripped her shoulder and kept her upright.

“Here, eat this.”

Mildred felt the faintest whiff of chocolate and she bit down. It was chocolate, and welcome at that. Her queasy stomach began to settle as the spinning slowed.

“What was in that?”

“Nothing but good old fashioned chocolate.”

Mildred let go of the wall and straightened, shaking herself free of the haze. “Thanks.”

“Not at all, Mildred. Are you okay to continue?”

“Yep, yeah. I’m good,” Mildred nodded, trying to compose herself. She looked up for the first time, and down the street that stretched out before them. It was a bustling avenue with lopsided shops on both sides and witches and wizards in beautiful robes wandering about their business. It was magical in every way possible, every surface covered with moving pictures or flyers or ads for broomsticks or cauldrons or familiars.

“Welcome to Diagon Alley.”

 

***

 

The Professor brought them to a halt in front of a three storey building with dark paint and a gold trimmed sign. It read ‘Ollivanders; Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.”

“This is the one,” he said, pushing the door open and holding it for Millie.

“Ollivanders?” Mildred tried it on her tongue.

“Best wands in Europe. Anyone will tell you.”

Millie’s eyes grew wide as she stepped inside. There was a small counter, and behind it, rows of shelves that were stacked high with boxes in the most lopsided and unorganised way possible. Millie was sure there couldn’t possibly be an order to this madness.

There was a creaking of metal and wood and Millie jumped back as a ladder slid along the shelves into view, carrying a smiling wizard with dark skin and a well-trimmed beard. Millie immediately noticed the oddly casual clothes he wore, especially among all the old, dusty shelves.

“Well then, what’s this?”

He slid off the ladder and approached Professor Potter with arms open.

“Harry, how unexpected.”

“Just keeping you on your toes, Dean.”

“Of course, _Professor_ ,” Dean said with a jab and a grin. “I thought we’d finished up with your lot. Wasn’t Lily the last one? Not that you’re unwelcome, of course.”

“Actually, I’m not here for a Potter today. This is Mildred Hubble, and she’s in need of a wand.”

“Well then, we’ll see what we can do,” Dean smiled at Mildred, and looking her over thoughtfully, before turning back into the shop. “Seamus!”

From deep within came a muffled “Yes dear?” with a strong Irish lilt.

“We’ve got a kiddo here in need of a wand.”

“On my way.”

A second later another man stepped out from the shelves, with tousled black hair, pale skin and more traditional robes over jeans and a t-shirt that read ‘Quidditch Ireland’.

“Harry!” Seamus grinned, gathering the Professor up in a hug. “How unexpected. And what’s this? Another one to Hogwarts?”

“Mildred attends Cackle’s Academy, actually,” Harry corrected.

“Cackles, hey? I didn’t think they used wands?”

“They don’t, but Mildred is a unique student.”

Seamus nodded with a devious grin. “Still breaking all the rules then, Professor,” he grinned, jabbing Potter in the ribs, and Millie noticed the matching wedding rings he and Dean wore.

“Well, you know, some habits are hard to break.”

Seamus just laughed and joined Dean perusing the shelves.

“Do you know what you’re parent’s wands are, Mildred?” Dean asked, not lifting his head from the labels.

“Actually, I don’t… I mean, mum isn’t magical.”

“Muggle-born, excellent. Not a problem at all,” Seamus nodded with a reassuring smile.

“Actually.” Mildred tugged her fingers nervously. “My family was magical, but umm… they kind of gave up twelve generations of magic to restore a Founding Stone.”

“I see.” Dean turned to Seamus with a curious look. “Was magical…”

“Do you think..?”

“Possibly.”

They disappeared into the back again, and Mildred looked to the Professor. He smiled, nodding silent encouragement. There was the scrapping of wood and the shifting of containers and Dean and Seamus emerged a few moments later with three boxes between them.

“Hubble, you said?” Seamus asked.

Mildred nodded.

“There’s something very important you need to remember, Mildred. And that is, the wand chooses the witch. It’s not up to us, or to you. If the wand is right, it’s yours.”

“Okay,” Mildred nodded, suddenly all her excitement turning to nervousness.

Dean lifted the lid from a box and offered its contents, a long stick of light wood with a rough geometric design.

Mildred ran her fingers along it and lifted it out.

“Now then, give it a wave. Not too big,” Seamus instructed, stepping back a bit.

Mildred swished it slowly, and a jet of flame shot from the end, singeing the wooden counter and almost reaching Seamus.

“Not that one then!” Dean snatched the wand from her hand as gently as possible, slipping it back into the box and out of sight.

“Sorry,” Mildred gasped, recoiling.

“Not a worry at all, Mildred, this happens to everyone, every time. It’s just part of the process.”

“Perhaps this one,” Seamus lifted another box to her, and she tentatively took the wand within. This one was jet black, and had silver swirls all the way up the wood.

She flicked it tentatively. Nothing happened.

“Not that one, then,” Professor Potter said, his voice slightly strangled. Mildred turned to find him dripping wet from head to toes, shivering violently. She almost threw the wand back into the box, horrified.

“I’m so sorry, Professor, I didn’t mean…”

“Not at all, Mildred,” he said, lifting his own wand with a flick and drying instantly. “During my choosing I almost destroyed a whole shelf of wands.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Not that one then,” Seamus confirmed, lowering the box. He glanced at Dean, who nodded, not all that convincingly.

“Let’s try this one then, Mildred.”

Dean lifted the lid from the third, far dustier box, and offered her its contents. The wand nestled on the red velvet inside was pale and straight, carved intricately with elegant patterns of flowers and vines.

Mildred ghosted her fingers along the carvings and lifted it out, weighing it in her hand. It was heavier than the others, even as it was shorter. But oddly, it wasn’t cold to touch.

As soon as she gripped it properly, the carvings began to feel warmer beneath her fingers, and then in her arm and chest. Faintly, it began to glow gold in her grip, stronger and stronger, bathing the area in a soft sunlight.

Dean lowered the box, and nodded. “That one it is, then.”

Mildred breathed a sigh of relief.

“Eleven inches, vine and phoenix feather. Nice and sturdy. Vine wands are stubborn, but they know what they’re about, and their wielders will surprise even those that know them best. Phoenix feather, one of the rarest wand cores, and the most powerful, in scope and raw energy.”

“Whoa,” Mildred breathed, already feeling the warmth slip from her chest and back into the wand.

“Take good care of it, Mildred, and it will take good care of you,” Seamus said.

She felt a hand lay one her shoulder, and looked up to find the Professor smiling. “Congratulations, Mildred. You have a wand.”

“I… I have a wand,” she beamed.

Seamus wrote something on a scrap of paper, and looked to her again.

“Seven galleons for that one.”

Mildred’s face fell, and her stomach fell farther still.

“Oh, I… I don’t any money.”

“Not a worry!” Professor Potter smiled, reaching into his pocket and dropping a handful of coins into Seamus’s hand without a pause.

Mildred looked between them, and smiled furtively.

“Thank you, Professor.”

“It is my pleasure, Mildred. Now, you’ll also be needing a spell book to go with that one.”

“A spell book, you say?” Seamus asked, considering something in his head. “Don’t go anywhere.”

He turned and went bounding up the stairs and out of sight, his robes billowing around him.

“Harry, a moment,” Dean asked, his expression a little tighter than before. The Professor stepped around the counter to follow him.

“Just one moment, Mildred. Don’t go waving that wand around.”

They both disappeared among the shelves.

Mildred didn’t mean to eavesdrop, it was just the shop was so quiet, and even though they spoke in hushed tones, she had such good hearing.

“…was made by Hawick Ollivander, thirteen generations ago. We… buried in some forgotten cupboard. No one’s … in years. Harry, I think … made for a Hubble. I think it was made for her.”

“I thought all wands … for their wielders?”

“No, not at … the wands, they choose their keeper. The last person who … wand specifically made just for them… was you.”

There was a long pause, and Mildred wondered if they had cast a silencing spell. And then…

“Keep an eye on her, Harry. A close eye.”

“How close?”

“With vine and phoenix feather?” Dean sighed. “I just hope she’s on our side.”

A stack of books thudded to the counter in front of her and Millie nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Here we are,” Seamus grinned. “ _The Standard Book of Spells_ , grades one and two, _A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_ , and _A History of Magic_. A bit dry that one but there’s some good stuff in there. And I just happened to have a spare _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_. I know you do potions at Cackle’s, wasn’t sure if you’d have a copy.”

Mildred shook her head, hand running down the spines of the stack.

“Excellent. Oh, and here’s something a little special. _Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed_. Don’t tell anyone,” Seamus waggled his eyebrows conspiratorially, slipping the books into a bag and passing them to Mildred as the Professor and Dean emerged from the back.

Mildred hefted them onto her shoulder, pushing aside the temptation to open one and start reading immediately.

“You’re in luck Harry. Now that Aberforth is in fifth year, I had a stack of old textbooks lying around.”

“You’re too kind, Seamus. Thank you. And how is young Abe?” the Professor asked, taking his place beside Millie again.

“Oh, you know,” Dean sighed. “A teenager. We can’t possibly understand anything that he’s going through even though we’ve literally been there before.”

“The three of you must come for dinner when the term breaks. Ginny would love to see you.”

There was lots of nodding in agreement and promises to meet and then hugging goodbye. Mildred tried not to stumble through her thanks and ended up just hugging them both before they slipped back onto the bustling alley and into the sunlight.

“Well then, you’ve got a wand now, and spell books to go with it. You’ve already got a familiar, and there’s no quidditch at Cackle’s.”

“What’s quidditch?”

“A magical sport. But, I don’t want to get into too much trouble so we’ll steer clear of that. Wand, books, familiar, robes… I wonder.” Professor Potter looked down at her curiously. “You said you didn’t know a thing about the magical world until Cackle’s, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“And your mother didn’t either?”

“No,” Millie shook her head, a little embarrassed.

“Hmm…” Potter stroked his chin and spun on his heels. “I want to check something, Mildred. While we’re here.”

He spun and marched up the street, Millie hurrying to keep up with the Professor’s long strides.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a feeling your Hubble ancestors might have left more than just the witching world behind.”

He pulled to a halt in front of the most terrifyingly lopsided building she had ever seen. It’s tall, white marble columns were on such an angle Mildred was sure they couldn’t possibly be holding anything up, but rather pulling it down.

“Welcome to Gringotts, Mildred. The Wizard Bank.”

“It’s very… old.”

“That it is,” the Professor laughed as he swept in through the doors, Mildred in toe.

She felt immediately uneasy, the goblins behind the counter stamping and shuffling and counting coins. Harry whispered that they were mostly harmless, as long as you listened and obeyed. When they arrived at the end of the long building, Harry coughed gently to get the attention of the very old, very wrinkled and very unpleasant goblin who sat ignoring them.

“Yes,” he drawled, not looking up from his scribbling.

“Harry Potter, here on an… unorthodox matter.”

The goblin looked up slowly, grimacing.

“What… _unorthodox_ matter?” he asked, squinting at Mildred.

“Inquiring about the possibility of a forgotten vault.”

“There are no forgotten vaults,” the goblin glared at the Professor, annunciating every word. “Only forgotten wizards and witches.”

“And returning witches. Mildred Hubble’s family has returned to the magical world.”

“Hubble?” The goblin was suddenly sitting up a little straighter, and glaring a little less. He looked to Mildred. “ _You_ are a Hubble?”

“Yes,” Mildred squeaked.

“Your hand, please,” the goblin held out his, and Mildred placed her palm in it. She flinched as he pricked her finger with his nail and watched in horror as he raised the blood to his tongue and tasted it. Then his eyes grew very wide, and his frown fell away.

“One moment, Mistress Hubble. Mr Potter.” And he was gone.

Mildred took her hand back and glanced down to where the drop of blood was already drying.

“Was that… good?” Mildred asked, and the Professor shrugged.

“I’m not really sure. They’re hard to read, goblins.”

And then the goblin was hurrying back in the shadow of another.

“I have been informed that there is a Hubble in our midst, Mr Potter.”

He nodded, looking to Mildred. “This is Mildred Hubble, come to enquire about a family vault.”

“Absolutely,” the goblin nodded. “I am Bargok. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Hubble.”

“Do we need… a key?” Potter asked tentatively.

“A key?” Bargok looked horrified. “The Hubble Vault is a Blood Vault. A key would be superfluous.”

“Great,” the Professor shrugged, a little taken aback.

“Please, follow me.”

Bargok opened the gate and led Mildred and the Professor away from the stamping and shuffling of papers and into the quieter parts of the bank and then down and down into the ground deep beneath Gringotts on the most petrifying rollercoaster ride Mildred had ever experienced. And she _liked_ rollercoasters.

Finally, mercifully, the cart began to slide to a stop, and Bargok leapt off to offer a hand to Mildred. She took it gratefully, and was relieved to find solid ground under her shaking feet.

“This way, Mistress Hubble,” Bargok said, not bothering to check if the Professor had dismounted.

He lead them along a short corridor, and at the end stood an enormous and ornate door with cogs and levers and a carving of a great tree across the metal. Eternal flames burned in the brackets, giving the whole scene an ethereal glow.

“Vault 918, Mistress Hubble.”

“Thanks?” Mildred smiled nervously, and Bargok bowed.

“Simply place your hand on the central panel, and the vault will open.”

“Okay,” Mildred nodded, gathering her courage.

Bargok stood back, watching with something like fascination as Mildred examined the door.

“It’s okay, Mildred. It’s perfectly safe,” the Professor smiled his encouragement.

Mildred breathed deeply, and found the air stale and musty.

Maybe this would make her a real witch. Maybe HB would be a little softer if she came back with something so old and witchy she couldn’t deny it.

She placed her palm against the cold (yet somehow dustless) metal. As soon as she lay it flat, there was a great groan and clanking of metal and she leapt back as the cogs began to shift and the levers pull and the door itself shrunk back into the wall, metal plates retreating from her touch.

A soft light shone out, eternal torches within the vault illuminating what lay beyond.

Mildred had never seen so much gold in her life. As she stepped into the vault, she noticed it wasn’t just gold, either. There were paintings, and swords, and chests of hardwood. And bars of gold, to be sure, but also shelves and shelves of papers and scrolls and books.

Mildred turned back to the Professor, who seemed a little taken aback himself.

“Is this… is it all mine?” Mildred breathed.

“I think it is.”

Bargok shuffled into the vault. “And will you be needing the deeds for the Estate, Mistress Hubble.”

“Estate?” Mildred chocked, chest suddenly constricting, even as her gut fluttered.

“Yes, I think we’d like to see a copy, thank Bargok,” the Professor nodded.

“Excellent, Mr Potter. It will be arranged.”

“Can I just… leave this here for now?” Mildred asked.

“Of course, Mistress Hubble. This vault is always open to you, and your descendants.”

“Thanks,” Mildred nodded, casting her eyes over everything once more. It was a lot. It was just… a lot. And then her eyes caught something, a book on the shelf _. The Lineage and Vestiges of the Family Hubble_. Mildred slid it free and tucked it against her chest.

“I’d like to take this one, if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Bargok bowed again. “It is yours.”

Professor Potter stepped tentatively up to her and lay a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay, Mildred?”

“It’s just… a lot.”

He nodded, and began to gently steer her out. Millie slipped the book in to the bag at her side.

“It’s here, whenever you want to come back.”

“Wait, I’d like to…”

Millie turned back and grabbed a hefty bag of gold from the stack. It was heavier than she expected, and it would have dropped if the Professor’s hands hadn’t shot out and caught it.

“Would you like me to carry it?”

“Thanks,” Mildred nodded, letting him take the weight.

They stepped out, and Mildred watched the doors slide and clank back into place, obscuring her inheritance from view.

She was rich. She was really, really rich.

But more importantly, she was from a real witching family.


	3. Pendants and Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Among the chaos, Millie learns some interesting things about our favourite teacher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I've nearly finished writing the final chapter, so I think I'll post a chapter a day for the next 5 days. Enjoy!

“Okay, but you really can’t tell anyone,” Millie insisted, and her circle of friends nodded earnestly. “Enid, I really mean it.”

“I’m serious. On Stormy’s life, I won’t tell.”

Millie took that as a definite yes, and revealed the wand from behind her back. Maud gasped.

“Millie, Cackle witches don’t have wands. HB is going to kill you!”

“Professor Potter is working on it.”

“Why is the Professor working on it?” Rose asked, eyeing the wand carefully. “I mean, it’s beautiful, and you should definitely get to learn how to use it, but why Uncle Harry?”

“Uncle Harry?” Elsie raised an eyebrow.

“Professor Potter, whatever. You know what I mean.”

“Well,” Mildred bit her lip, “he kind of took me to get it.”

“Really,” Rose asked, surprised. “He must have really wanted you to have it, I guess.”

“He said he’s going to speak to Miss Cackle about taking me for extra lessons while he’s here, and then maybe weekend lessons when he’s not.”

“You’re going to get private lessons with Harry Potter?” Enid asked, jealousy evident.

“I’m the worst witch, Enid. Maybe the reason I’m the worst is because I’m not using my magic properly.”

“Well, I’m not great either, but I don’t get a wand and private lessons…” Enid growled.

“You’re fine, Enid. You can actually do the spells, you just choose not to.”

Enid hmphed and sat back onto the bed, not meeting her eyes.

“Enid, if you wanted a wand, you could just ask your parents,” Maud pointed out.

“I did have a wand. When I went to Hogwarts,” Enid muttered. “But they broke it when they expelled me.”

“Oh,” Millie breathed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine, Millie,” Enid shook her head and seemed to clear the jealousy from her frown. “I’m really happy that you’re going to try it out. Wands are… pretty cool.”

“What is it?” Elsie asked, trying to change the subject. “What’s in it, I mean.”

“Oh, umm… Eleven inches, vine and phoenix feather.”

“Really?” Rose perked up. “That’s a pretty rare combination. I mean, vine wands are rare, and phoenix wands are rarer. The only person I know with a vine wand is mum, and Uncle Harry has phoenix feather but that was like, made special or something.”

“Short of having like, Basilisk Fang or Thestral Tail-Hair, that’s a pretty rare wand you’ve got, Millie,” Elsie grinned. “Take care of it.”

“Yeah, I will,” Millie nodded, and slid it back into the box. “I mean I can’t actually use it for anything yet so...”

“ _Mildred Hubble_.”

With a crack Miss Hardbroom materialised in the centre of their circle, glaring down at Millie and sending the others scattering backward.

“Miss Cackle’s Office. Now,” Miss Hardbroom fumed. “And bring that infernal thing with you.”

Another loud crack and she was gone.

The room was very still, and very silent as Millie stood, clutching the box to her chest.

“I’m sure it won’t be too bad,” Rose offered, almost apologetic.

“Then you don’t know HB,” Enid shook her head.

The whole way to Miss Cackle’s Office, Millie was wracking her brain, trying to come up with an excuse, an explanation, anything. She hoped Professor Potter would be there to clear it up. As she approached Miss Cackle’s door, she could already here the shouting.

“How dare you presume to know what is best for my student!” Miss Hardbroom, and she sounded furious.

“I wasn’t presuming…” Professor Potter. Millie let out a breath.

“Oh, really? You were going to come and ask us after the fact? You have gone and bought her a wand. What am I to do? Take it away, and crush her spirits?”

“Mirror Ollivanders. They will tell you what I have said. That wand was _made_ for her. It has been waiting for twelve generations of magicless witches, so that it might find the hand of Mildred.”

Millie raised her hand and knocked quietly. The door swung in before she’d even tapped three times.

“Come in, Mildred,” Miss Cackle called, and Millie entered tentatively.

Miss Cackle and Professor McGonagall were sat at the desk, while Miss Hardbroom and Professor Potter seemed to be facing off across the room.

“Thank you for coming, Mildred.”

Millie wanted to nod, or say sorry, or something, but she couldn’t move her tongue or her head or her thoughts.

“Give me the box, Mildred,” Miss Hardbroom ordered, holding out her hand.

Professor Potter drew his wand and pointed it firmly at Miss Hardbroom.

“Don’t even think about it,” he breathed menacingly.

“I’m not going to break it, you idiot.” Miss Hardbroom flicked her wrist and his wand when spinning from his grip.

“That’s enough,” Professor McGonagall commanded. She stood from her seat and the room fell silent.

“Mildred,” the Headmistress smiled curtly. “Could you please take a seat while we all talk this through rationally.”

Millie forced her feet to shuffle to the seat opposite Miss Cackle and lowered herself into it.

“Now, Mildred. I understand you have a wand in that box, which you purchased from Ollivanders with the assistance of Professor Potter?”

Millie nodded.

“And you did so because you have found your magic to be erratic and difficult to control?”

Millie nodded again, and McGonagall lifted her gaze to meet Miss Hardbroom’s.

“And what exactly, Miss Hardbroom, is your objection to Mildred Hubble using a wand to channel her magic?”

Miss Hardbroom breathed deeply through her nose.

“I do not want her to make the same mistake you have all made. Presuming a wand means you have discipline.”

“You think I am undisciplined, Miss Hardbroom?” McGonagall asked, her tone steady, and HB grew very still.

“Of course not, Headmistress.”

“Then I should inform you that Professor Potter asked my opinion on purchasing Mildred Hubble a wand. And Miss Cackle and I agreed it would be prudent.”

“Ada… is that true?”

The utter betrayal that was written across Miss Hardbroom’s face was enough to make Millie want to refuse the wand and extra lessons out of solidarity.

“Yes. It is,” Miss Cackle had the good sense to look a little sheepish. “Though I would prefer that any lessons were conducted by a member of my own staff.”

“Who did you have in mind?” Professor Potter asked.

Miss Cackle looked pointedly at Miss Hardbroom, who gritted her teeth.

“Absolutely not.” And with a twist of her fingers she was gone.

“Miss Hardbroom may take a little convincing,” Miss Cackle sighed. “In the meantime, Mildred, you may take lessons with Professor Potter in your free periods.”

Millie chocked on her thanks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make trouble. I just thought maybe I should be trying different things, to see what works.”

“That is very sensible, Mildred. But next time, come to me, instead of a visiting teacher. Professor Potter has been very generous, and we thank him for it, but you are student of Cackle’s Academy, not Hogwarts, and your education is our responsibility.”

“Yes, Miss Cackle.”

“Is that all, Mildred?”

Millie bit her lip. It was now or never.

“Were you ever going to tell me about the Hubble Vault at Gringotts?”

McGonagall’s gaze shot to Professor Potter, red hot.

“Ah yes… that,” the Professor winced.

“You took her to Gringotts _without_ consulting us?”

“I’ll admit it was quite a spur of the moment decision, and I wasn’t expecting to find… well, that.”

Miss Cackle kept her gaze level with Millie.

“We were going to tell you when you turned sixteen, Mildred. I’m sorry if that was the wrong decision. Obviously, now that you know about it, you may do as you please. And we will, of course, assist and support you. Even Miss Hardbroom, when she has had a moment to adjust.”

Millie nodded, though she was beginning to grow very tired. It had certainly been a rollercoaster of a day.

“Now off to bed with you, I think. It’s almost curfew.”

“Yes, Miss Cackle.”

Millie stood and was barely two paces from the door when a whirl of pink stormed past her without so much as a knock.

“What have you done?” It was an accusation, plain and simple.

“Miss Pentangle,” McGonagall began, but she was cut off when her quarry stormed right past her.

“I don’t care who you are, Potter,” Miss Pentangle brandished a finger at him, “I will tear you to shreds if you so much as…”

“Miss Pentangle,” Miss Cackle tried to cut in. “I’m sure that’s not…”

“Oh no, I mean it.” Behind Miss Pentangle, something ceramic exploded. “You’re lucky she has any discipline at all.” A window cracked. “If I was her I would…” A stack of papers on the desk caught fire and Miss Pentangle bit her tongue, breathing deeply.

With a wave of her hand she extinguished the fire.

“You haven’t heard the last of this,” she breathed, glaring at all three teachers.

She turned to go, and finally saw Mildred, slightly terrified by the door.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Mildred.”

On those words she swept back out, leaving the room gaping in her wake.

There was a long moment in which no one was quite sure what to say, and Millie quietly backed out of the door and turned to go.

“When do you think they’re going to realise they’re in love?” McGonagall sounded awfully tired.

“Hopefully, soon,” Miss Cackle sighed.

***

Millie woke on the morning of the First Trial feeling surprisingly calm. She went to breakfast with Elsie and they ate together with Scorpius, trying to figure out what the Task might be. Scorpius mentioned that the First Task of the 1994 Triwizard Tournament had involved dragons, and suddenly Millie wasn’t so calm anymore.

And she was a lot less calm when her mum came hurrying into the Hall, a flustered Miss Drill in toe.

“Ms Hubble, I really must insist.”

“She’s my daughter, Dimity. I have rights.”

Julie Hubble gathered Millie into a tight hug and then gave her a quick look over. “What’s this I hear about some bi witching Olympics, Millie?”

“It’s okay mum, I promise. They’ve made it super safe now and no one has died in ages…”

“They _what?!”_

Oops, wrong words.

“I can assure you, Ms Hubble, it’s barely even a tournament.”

“Students were _dying_?!”

“Not at Cackle’s, Ms Hubble, and not for many years.”

“Miss Drill, that is the least convincing you’ve ever sounded.”

Miss Cackle hurried into the hall behind them and Julie caught sight of her.

“Miss Cackle, what is my daughter doing in some tournament of dead students? I thought we agreed you’d tell me about these things!”

Miss Cackle walked hastily toward them, always warm but clearly in a hurry.

“Ms Hubble, always a pleasure. I’m afraid Mildred has entered into a binding magical contract with the Triwizard Cup and as such, if she does not compete, she will die.”

Julie blinked rapidly at Miss Cackle’s frankness.

“But, if she does compete in three very manageable tasks, she will live and flourish.”

“If she competes, she lives?”

“Yes, it’s that simple. Now, I’m actually here to speak with our Champions, so if I just might.”

And Miss Cackle shepherded the three of them off.

Behind them, Millie faintly heard Miss Drill ask, “How on earth did you even get here?”

***

The task was simple. There were three pendants hanging from the highest tower of Cackle’s Academy. Claim the Pendant of your school and you continue to the next round. Fail, and you do not.

The Task started with much fanfare, the Champions racing off at the sound of a cannon. Nowhere was off limits. They just had to succeed, by whatever means they managed.

A full 20 minutes had passed before they finally realised that Miss Drill had hidden all the brooms, and Miss Hardbroom had hidden all the potion ingredients, and Miss Bat had hidden all the chanting books.

“Wait,” Millie skidded to a halt suddenly on her way past her competitors. “Elsie, Scorpius!”

The other champions turned back to her.

“There’s literally nothing saying we can’t work together, right?”

Scorpius glanced to Elsie, who shrugged.

“Come on, we can destroy each other in the Second Task. What do you say we help each other get there first?”

“I’m in,” Scorpius nodded.

“I guess. I mean, why not?”

“Okay, umm. I was going to try a levitation spell.”

“Oh, nice,” Scorpius grinned.

“But how can you cast it on yourself?” Elsie asked.

“With a potion. I’ll show you.”

It was so simple, just working together.

“We need a cauldron and a textbook. All the ingredients we need can be found around Cackle’s.”

“Are you sure?” Scorpius asked, brow creased.

“Yeah, I’ve kind of made one from just what’s around before.”

“Great, tell us that fascinating story another time. For now, let’s go!” Elsie said, already ready to go.

***

Miss Hardbroom had the same horrified expression plastered to her skin the entire Task, even as Julie was breathing easy at the distinct lack of dragons.

“Are they even allowed to do that?” Ethel spat.

“There’s nothing in the rules that says they can’t,” Rose grinned as she watched her new friends levitate together toward their waiting pendants.

When they landed there was much cheering and clapping and Rose heard HB mutter something ominous like, “The next one won’t be so easy.”

***

Millie stole away from her friends later that afternoon, when the chattering and squealing got too much, and found herself a shady bench in the far corner of the gardens to sit and think. She pulled out the pendant, and began fiddling with the edges, wondering what it did, or if it even did anything at all.

Scorpius had said the eggs of the 1994 games were magical, but a lot had changed, so maybe the pendants were just pendants?

She heard the soft crunching of pebbles underfoot and looked up to see Headmistress McGonagall wandering down the path, book in hand. She glanced up and saw Millie alone on the bench, and just nodded with a small smile, turning to leave her in peace.

“Professor?”

McGonagall paused and looked back to her.

“Yes, Mildred.”

“Professor, I was wondering if… could you help me understand something?”

“If I can.”

“Miss Hardbroom, she went to Hogwarts, didn’t she?”

McGonagall took in a deep breath and stepped back toward Mildred’s bench, lowering down beside her. There was a long pause, in which the Professor seemed to be considering the clouds that floated by above.

“She did indeed.”

“What house was she in?”

“She was in Ravenclaw House, for those who have a deep passion for knowledge and understanding.”

Millie tugged at the pendant absentmindedly.

“And that means she has a wand, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed,” McGonagall nodded.

“Why doesn’t she use it? And, why doesn’t she want me to use mine?”

McGonagall’s shoulders fell a fraction, and she looked to Mildred with curiosity.

“I don’t suppose Mr Finnigan and Mr Thomas explained the principles of wand lore while you were at Ollivanders?”

“A little bit. And I’ve read a bit. How the wand chooses the witch, and how every wand is unique, with a different length and make and core.”

“That’s right. Then I’m sure you know that the components of some wands are rarer than others.”

Millie nodded.

“What kinds of cores are considered rare, Mildred?”

Millie dug deep into her memory.

“Phoenix feather, Veela hair… Thestral tail hair… Thunderbird tail feather, and umm… Basilisk fang?”

“Very good. And what do you know of Thestral tail hair wands?”

“There have only been a handful ever made. And one of them was the Elder Wand.”

“Correct,” McGonagall nodded. “There are only four Thestral tail hair wands known to have chosen witches or wizards to carry them. The first was indeed the Elder Wand, the most powerful wand ever made, and the most dangerous. The second and third belonged to two great witches in ages past, one who did great good, and one who did great evil. The fourth is in Miss Hardbroom’s possession.”

Millie bit her lip. She’d thought that’s where it was going.

“Why doesn’t she use it?”

McGonagall, placed her book on the bench beside herself, considering the question.

“Thestral tail hair wands are notoriously fickle, but extraordinarily powerful. Their connection with death, however, is thought to inspire murder in the hearts of their bearers.”

“Murder?” Millie blinked. She definitely hadn’t read anything about that.

“Indeed.”

“So… she’s _afraid_ to use it?”

“I suspect so. Even as a student, she was reluctant. I suggested a staff as an alternative, but she wouldn’t have it. A staff being a wizard’s tool, and all that nonsense.”

“Do you think that’s why she teaches here, at Cackle’s? We don’t use wands so she doesn’t have to use hers?”

“I have had much the same thought.”

Millie nodded again, trying to piece together this very perplexing puzzle that was HB.

“I’ve been reading up on the history of the magical world. You know, all the stuff I’m supposed to know but don’t. And I was wondering, being that Miss Hardbroom went to Hogwarts, and was… well, I guess I want to ask… was Miss Hardbroom at the Battle of Hogwarts?”

McGonagall gave a slow, sad nod dip of her chin.

“Yes, she was.”

“And… what side was she fighting on?”

McGonagall gave her a sharp look.

“Are you really asking me that?”

“It’s just, I came across a reference to the Hardbroom Family, and it said…”

“Everything that you have read about the family Hardbroom, disregard in relation to Hecate. She could not be further from a Hardbroom, even if she bears the name.”

Millie scuffed her foot on the gravel, plucking up her last sliver of courage.

“Her father died that day, didn’t he? Fighting for the wrong side.”

“I think that is all I will say on this matter, Mildred Hubble. I suggest you ask Miss Hardbroom if you wish to know more.”

McGonagall stood swiftly and peered down at Millie with a curious looked.

“I think I understand now, what she sees in you.” The Professor nodded and then spun on her heels and was gone from the garden.

Millie was left biting her lip, with a lot more puzzle pieces than before, and a lot of edges that didn’t seem to fit together.

***

Millie took the pendant everywhere, but for three whole weeks, she didn’t get anything from it. Then, in flying class, it happened. She’d tied it to her wrist for safekeeping, and barely kicked off from the ground when the pendant began to sing.

She pulled to stop, heart pounding.

Silence.

She lifted it up to take a look, but it was the same dull shade of grey that it had been all week.

She took off again, listening hard. There! It was the air! The wind rushing past made the sound! She listened carefully, trying to remember every word as it came.

_Chase the sun, catch the moon, find a mother, we’ll grant a boon._

Millie tipped into a dive, landing as quickly as possible and dashing over to Scorpius and his friend, the same boy from the Triwizard choosing who had made Scorpius smile.

“It’s the wind! It’s the wind!”

“The what?” Scorpius turned to see her running toward them, confused. “What’s the wind?”

“The pendant, it gives you the clue if you’re flying!”

Scorpius grinned, quickly tying his pendant to his wrist and mounting his broom. “Oh, umm. Mildred, Albus. Albus, Mildred.”

And with that, he was off.

Albus offered a hand, and Millie shook it. “Hey.”

***

“I’ll admit, I am surprised by your progress, Mildred,” Professor Potter stroked his chin. “I suppose you have the added advantage of already understanding the fundamentals of magic, but two textbooks in barely a month. That’s impressive.”

Millie grinned. This was all the proof she needed. Wand magic was the best kind.

“I’d like to try some slightly more advanced magic. Nothing too serious, just your standard fourth year spells.”

Millie sat up and straightened her wand where it lay on the desk.

“We’ll start with a Summoning spell. Obviously, Summoning is easier without a wand. I’m sure you’ve seen your teachers Summon and Vanish things like it was nothing. For those of us who wield wands, it can be more time consuming, as we do not move an object through space instantly, but rather we call it across the distance. Like this.”

The Professor raised his wand, considered something, and then, “ _Accio_ spell book.”

Nothing happened.

“Oh, is that…”

“Just a moment, Mildred.”

And then with a crackle of energy, a thick book came speeding through the open door and landed in the Professor’s hand.

Millie grinned. “Nice.”

“It’s certainly not as elegant as instant summoning, but it is practical and the end result is the same. Now, you just have to focus your mind on what you want to summon, and when you cast the spell, it helps to be as concise and specific as possible.”

The Professor lay the spell book out in front of her, opening to a page titled, _Accio; a summoning spell for the lost and found._

Hurried footsteps clipped through the corridor outside, and Professor McGonagall came sweeping into their classroom, newspaper in hand.

“I apologise for the interruption, Professor, but might I borrow you a moment?”

“Of course,” Potter straightened. “Read through that page for me, Mildred. But no casting.”

The Professors stepped out into the empty corridor, and Millie tried not to listen. She really, really did. But she’d caught sight of a corner of the newspaper McGonagall had been holding, and the words ‘prison’ and ‘breakout’ stood clear on the page.

She only caught snippets, and not much of it made sense.

“…is well and truly dead. Who was…”

“…not worried about … followers are mostly mad and cruel, it doesn’t matter that he’s dead if they’re still coming for you.”

“…extra security … tournament … not for me.”

“…must … Hardbroom ... know … for Cackle’s and…”

The words grew quieter and Millie’s ears couldn’t strain any further.

Professor Potter swept back in and Mildred remembered that she was supposed to be reading and hadn’t so much as glanced at the page.

“Is everything okay, Professor?”

“Nothing to worry about, Mildred. Just some Hogwarts business.”


	4. Flying High

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the lovely comments, and I hope you enjoy the second task! Had a lot of fun writing this chapter.

“So you’ve _never_ played quidditch?” Rose’s eyes grew wide.

“What is that? Everyone keeps saying it like it means something!” Millie sighed in frustration.

“It’s a sport. But it’s played on broomsticks, and it’s really dangerous. Do you… want to learn?”

“It sounds kind of…”

“Okay, I made it sound really terrible, but it’s super fun, I promise.”

“You play?”

“Yeah, I’m a Chaser. But you don’t know what that is, so come on!”

Rose suddenly grabbed Millie’s hand and ran her down the stairs and all the way to Miss Drill. The Sports Witch was quite enthusiastic about lending out her Quidditch supplies, and offered them two brooms for practice. She left them alone on the lawn, Rose pulling out each ball and explaining its purpose and who could touch it and how it worked, and if it could fly on its own or not.

“Then, there’s the Seeker, who catches the Golden Snitch.” Rose lifted the Snitch from its perch. It unfurled its wings in her palm and began to flit about in the air around them.

Millie’s hand shot out and caught it on instinct, the metal cold beneath her fingers.

“Whoa,” Rose blinked. “That was… impressive. You’d make a pretty decent Seeker with reflexes like that.”

“Oh, I don’t think…” Millie blushed, and tried not to meet Rose’s eye.

“Come one, let’s practice a bit.” Rose took the Snitch back and pulled the Quaffle out, mounting her broom and kicking off. “Just for fun.”

Rose hovered in the air, smiling down at her, and Millie really didn’t have a good reason to say no. Plus, Quidditch sounded like fun. But the broom in her hand was very different to what she usually rode. Miss Drill had called it a _Nimbus Parallax_ , and asked her to not crash, if she could avoid it.

“It’s okay. They have balancing charms and stuff, so it’s pretty hard to fall off,” Rose offered reassuringly.

Millie nodded, pushing down her nervousness, and mounted up. It was, rather oddly, much more comfortable than riding sideways, though it was definitely going to take a bit to get used to. She kicked off and hovered, breathing deeply and trying hard not to focus on how unstable it felt.

“Awesome. Now, keep one hand on the broom, and catch.”

Rose tossed the Quaffle gently at her chest and, by some miracle, Millie caught it without pitching right off the broom. She took it up in one hand and tossed it back.

Rose grinned and leant forward on her broom, soaring up over Cackle’s, Quaffle clutched tight to her chest.

Millie twisted the broom over a little and leant forward, shifting shakily away. It was a lot faster than flying on normal brooms, and a lot more responsive to her movements, plus it was a lot more fun.

They soared and ducked between the towers of the castle, Millie chasing the laughing Rose as she manoeuvred far more nimbly and dared for speeds faster than Millie was willing to try.

Rose spun and laced in a tight ring around the tallest tower, pulling to a stop high above the castle. Millie slid to a confident stop beside her, grinning from ear to ear.

“Flying like this is so much better.”

“Told you,” Rose laughed. “Now imagine that, but there’s a dozen of you and you’re trying to knock each other off your brooms and score points, and stop the other team from catching the Snitch, and there are crowds of people cheering every move you make.”

“I can see why you like it.”

“From what the Pendant said, do you think this’ll help with the Second Task?”

“Maybe. The Pendant’s song was pretty vague though. I mean, obviously the winner gets some kind of prize or advantage, but I don’t know what the first part means.”

Rose bit her lip and tossed the Quaffle to Millie with a tentative grin.

“Don’t tell Elsie or Scorpius but… I hope you win,” Rose blushed.

Millie didn’t see the colour rise to her cheeks, though. She was too busy trying to hide her own reddening face.

***

Miss Cackle shepherded the three champions into a wide and low tent on the lawn, a hundred or so paces from the stadium seating that glided above the ground and was rapidly filling with students and spectators.

Millie stepped inside after Scorpius to find HB, Miss Pentangle and Professor Potter waiting, all splendid in flying robes of black and white and clutching slick racing brooms.

Millie blinked. Miss Pentangle looked very odd in something other than pink, and Professor Potter looked right at home in flying robes, but mostly, she was looking at HB.

“Miss Hardbroom, you can… I mean, you’re going to fly a racing broom?”

HB gave a very small sigh, and almost rolled her eyes.

“I can fly, Mildred Hubble. It’s not that difficult.”

Miss Pentangle tried to supress the smile that was tugging at her lips, and leant over to Millie conspiratorially. “You know Mildred, Miss Hardbroom used to play Quidditch.”

Millie glanced between them, eyes wide. HB was stone faced, but Miss Pentangle was nodding seriously. “She was a Seeker. And one of the best.”

“That’s quite enough of that,” HB cut in, glaring (not at all harshly) at Miss Pentangle. “Let’s not bore Mildred.”

“No, I’d like to hear it,” Millie piped in. HB grew even taller and her posture turned to solid stone.

“Another time, perhaps,” Miss Pentangle winked as Miss Cackle called for their attention.

“Now then, Champions. Welcome to the Second Task.”

Scorpius looked very pale, though Elsie on the other hand was almost bouncing out of her skin with excitement.

“I would like to introduce you to a very special visitor. Mr Charles Weasley.”

_Weasley? Was he related to Rose?_

The back flap of the tent pulled aside to reveal a tall older man with red hair and a cleanshaven face that exposed a long scar down his chin and neck.

“Good morning, Champions.”

They touched their hands to their foreheads and there was a chorus of “well met” as he took his place in the circle.

“Mr Weasley is a Dragonologist, and will be assisting with the Second Task.”

“Dragons?” Millie chocked.

“Yes, Mildred,” Miss Cackle smiled. “Dragons. Young dragons, to be precise. Your task is simple. You will each be assigned a dragonling and it will be released onto the grounds of Cackle’s Academy. It is your goal to find the dragonling and return it to its waiting mother.”

“It’s mother?” Scorpius whimpered.

Elsie didn’t look so excited anymore.

“Yes, dear,” Miss Cackle nodded. “The dragonlings will not recognise their parents, but their parents will recognise their children. The first Champion to successfully return the child to its mother will receive a considerable advantage in the Third Task. Now, Mr Weasley, if you would.”

The Dragonologist turned to the table behind him and pulled a cloth off three birdcages that were hidden beneath. Only they weren’t birdcages. They were Dragon Holds.

The first held a beautiful, lean black dragon with purple eyes and silver veins through its wings. The second, a dark green dragon with two golden horns and a thick belly. And the third, a very pale dragon with scales like pearls and eyes without pupils.

Mildred gasped, awestruck. They were easily three of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen.

“As requested; a Hebridean Black, a Romanian Longhorn, and an Antipodean Opaleye.”

The dragons chirped at them excitedly, jumping around in their Holds and getting a better look around. The Longhorn began nipping at the bars of its cage, but less like it was trying to escape and more like it was testing its teeth.

“They are very real, and you would all do well to remember it,” Mr Weasley warned.

“Now then, being that you all claimed your pendants from the first task together, the order of choosing will simply be alphabetical,” Miss Cackle examined them over the rim of her glasses. “Elspeth, Mildred, and then Scorpius. Elspeth, if you would.”

“The Romanian Longhorn,” Elsie said without a moment hesitation.

“Very well,” Charlie nodded, throwing the cover back over the green dragon’s Hold.

“Mildred?”

HB and Miss Pentangle watched her with baited breath.

Millie glanced between the dragons. Black or white. Black or white? She liked the way the silver glittered across the wings of the black one, and how the purple eyes looked like it had a flame burning behind them. But the pearl one looked so delicate and pretty, like it was sculped from pearl and moonlight.

She turned to Scorpius to ask which he wanted and found his eyes locked onto the Opaleye, unmoving, unblinking, a very subtle smile pulling at his lips. She grinned, and turned back to Miss Cackle.

“The black one.”

Millie would have sworn HB gave her a very tiny nod as Miss Pentangle whispered something in her ear and HB’s mouth twitched, supressing a smile.

Scorpius leant over to Millie. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” she grinned.

***

The dragons may have been small, but they were _fast_.

As soon as Mr Weasley waved his wand and the Hold doors were flung open, they leapt out of the cages and into the air, speeding away in a blur of glinting scales and flapping wings.

The three adjudicators rose into the air above, and Miss Cackle timed out thirty seconds before sending a shower of white sparks from her hand.

“And… go!”

And go they went.

Mildred sped around the base of the castle in the direction the Hebridean Black had flown, trying to remember everything she knew about dragonlings. As she rounded the corner she yanked the broom to a halt, heart pounding. There, a few hundred metres from the castle, chained to the grassy slopes of the mountain, was colossal green dragon. It gnashed its teeth, yanking on its restraints, and then screeching at the birds that flew overhead and the witches and wizards that stood a fair distance back.

The Longhorn mother. And she was _not_ happy.

Millie sped off again, wandering how in the world she was going to get her dragon back to its mother without getting eaten alive. But she really couldn’t afford to think about that because she needed to actually find the dragon first.

She kept her eyes open and searching, but four sweeps of the castle and there was no sign of the little bugger. Scorpius seemed to be keeping to the forest, and Millie had a feeling that must be the Opaleye’s preferred terrain.

Preferred terrain? She wondered what the Hebridean’s preferred terrain was, and then she remembered that she didn’t have to wonder. She pulled herself to a hover over the stadium seating and slipped her wand from her sleeve, trying desperately to remember.

What had the book looked like? What had it been called? Green cover, black trim… _From Egg to Inferno: a Dragon-Keeper's Guide_!

“Accio Dragon-Keeper’s Guide!”

Sparks flew from her wand, and Mildred held out her hand, hoping, praying, that it would work. A moment later there was a bang and a thud and the book came speeding into her hand from an open window of the castle. She caught it, stuffed her wand back into her sleeve and began to flip through the pages.

“A _book_!” Someone screeched. It was Ethel. Of course it was Ethel. “Why is she getting a book?!”

“Shut up, Ethel!” Rose, defending her. Millie blushed involuntarily.

Hungarian Horntail… Chinese Fireball… The Hebridean Black!

Native to Great Britain… likes warmth… prefers nesting with others… prefers high places…

“Millie!” It was Elsie, speeding toward her. “Can I borrow that?”

“Sure!” Millie tore out the pages she needed and stuffed them in her robes before tossing the book over to Elsie.

“Thanks!” Elsie shouted, already nose deep in the pages.

“Happy to help,” Millie grinned, leaving her below as she lifted into the air, eyes darting across the battlements for any sign of black. High places. Nesting with others. Maybe a birds nest?

She did another two sweeps, keeping her eyes on the higher places. Still no sign of it.

Millie pulled the pages back out and began flipping them over, examining them properly.

_The Hebridean Black will always seek out the warmest available resting place, especially when young. It’s semi heat sensitive vision allows it to detect warmth were other creatures cannot, which proved an excellent evolutionary addition when it comes to hunting._

Millie stuffed the pages back into her robes.

Warmest places… warmest places…

A thought struck her, and she grinned. It was worth a shot.

She spun around, destination clear, coming to a halt outside her own open window. Sure enough, Tabby curled up on her bed, was sleeping away the day, and curled against his stomach was a tiny black dragon.

Millie wished she had a camera.

She flew as steadily as possible through the window, dismounting at the foot of her bed and leaning the broom against the sill.

“Hey there, little one,” she cooed softly. Tabby and the dragon lifted their heads to glare at her interruption. “I’m sorry Tabby, but I’ve got to take your new friend. It doesn’t belong here.”

Tabby purred softly, nuzzling the dragon, and Millie really, really didn’t want to have to do this. As she reached over Tabby bit down gently onto her hand, a warning nip, but Mildred pushed through, extracting the chattering dragon as it screeched at her indignantly.

“I’m really sorry but you really do need to get back to your mum.”

It nipped at her fingers angrily, glaring at her with its purple eyes and sharp snout.

“You like warmth, right?”

It’d didn’t respond, just glared and huffed smoke from its nostrils.

“How about this?” Millie pulled open her robes and lowered the dragon into the layers between her dress and flying robes. It squirmed and chattered in protest and then suddenly began burrowing deeper into her robes, tickling Millie and making her giggle.

“Better?” she asked, looking down her robes to where it was peering up at her, chirping and purring contently. “Good.”

She mounted her broom again and manoeuvred back out the window, leaving a very disgruntled Tabby behind.

As Mildred sped back to where she’d spotted the gigantic Hebridean Black before, she saw Elsie down by the Longhorn, darting around on her broom trying desperately to avoid it’s razor sharp claws. Millie definitely didn’t envy her.

The little black dragon’s mother was chained to the grassy hills not far from Hollow Wood, and a stand of spectators had been shifted to a safe distance to watch her attempt at returning the dragonling.

Millie landed near the stands and peered down her robes again to find the little dragon had fallen asleep. She sighed, half frustrated, half sorry she’d have to wake it up.

“I’m sorry about this,” she muttered, reaching in and lifting it onto her chest, back into the cold air. It chattered angrily at her, flicking its tail about like a grumpy cat.

“You have to go back to your mum.” It clambered out of her grip and onto her shoulders, settling there and nibbling on her ear, making her giggle again.

“Hey, no. Not to me!”

But the more she pulled and cooed, the less it seemed to want to go.

She resigned herself, and began taking tentative steps toward the immense dragon that had levelled her with a fiery purple gaze. It did not like that. Not one bit.

The dragon clenched her dagger-like teeth and flicked out her tail, shifting into a defensive crouch, terrifyingly intelligent eyes trained on Mildred.

Somewhere behind her she heard the familiar voice of her mother shouting “I thought you said there _weren’t_ going to be dragons!”

“Okay, well definitely not that then,” Millie stopped, watching the swish of the dragon’s tail back and forth. “Well, if I can’t get over there, maybe I can just send you.”

She scratched the dragons chin, thinking it over. Levitation could work.

And then she remembered this was a Tournament, and it was being timed, and she hurriedly pulled off her flying robes and folded them into a square.

The dragon perched on her shoulders screeched in dismay and clambered onto her head, digging needle like claws into her scalp.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Millie groaned as she extricated the creature and sat it on the square of cloth. “You like warmth, right?”

It scowled at her, unhappy, and she raised her hands to cast.

“ _By southern desert and western spire, keep this robe as warm as fire._ ”

The dragon suddenly grew very still, and then spun itself around on the robe three times, quickly before settling into nap. Millie grinned.

“You know, I’m going to miss you, little one.”

She drew her wand from her sleeve and focused on the folded robe. _Swish and flick,_ she remembered Professor Potter saying. Nice and sharp.

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_.”

The spell was a little shaky at first, especially with the extra weight, but the robe lifted itself into the air at Millie’s command and she began floating the little dragon back toward its mother.

The crowds in the stands grew very still, watching the small square of cloth float alone toward the towering dragon.

Millie lowered the cloth at the dragon’s feet as gently as possible. The purple eyes flicked from this little witch to its offspring with hesitation, and Millie raised her hand.

“ _By eastern sea and northern pole, banish heat and welcome cold.”_

The baby dragon leapt up from the rapidly cooling robe, and ran smack bang into its mother’s snout. She snorted, bathing the little dragon in smoke, and let out a low rumble. The tiny dragon chirped back, scurried up her offered claw and onto her head, nestling between the ears and ridges on her back.

Millie jumped when a sudden burst of sparks shot up into the air nearby, and the stands erupted into applause. She turned to find her mother and Miss Cackle beaming down at her, all her friends jumping up and down with excitement as Miss Pentangle approached her from where she’d been hovering overhead, landing gently and dismounting.

“Congratulations, Mildred. You were the first to succeed.”

“The first?”

“The first,” Miss Pentangle nodded.

“But does that mean…?”

“You’re going into the Third Task in the lead.”

Millie felt a grin spread across her face.

“The lead? I’m not… I’m not the worst?”

“Mildred, you have never been the worst.”

Millie blushed and glanced at her feet, and found a tiny black dragon peering up at her. She blinked, and it blinked back.

“What’re you doing back here?”

It began chattering happily, bobbing its head this way and that.

“But, you’re supposed to go back to your mother.”

It ignored her objections and scurried up her leg and back onto her shoulders.

“Umm, Miss Pentangle? What do I do?”

Miss Pentangle looked uncharacteristically taken aback.

“I think this is a matter for Mr Weasley.”

***

“Ah…” Mr Weasley grimaced. “This is what I was afraid of.”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s what you were afraid of’? Did no one consider this possibility before we brought infant dragons into the school?” HB was barely containing her frustration.

“We did, but the probability was so slim, we decided it was worth the risk,” Professor McGonagall answered, peering at the dragon that was wrapped around Millie’s shoulders, purring contently.

“Well then,” HB stood a little straighter. “We simply extricate the dragon and return it to its mother.”

“I’m afraid, if the child has truly bonded with Mildred, he will refuse food from anyone else, and will likely die,” Mr Weasley said firmly.

“Miss Cackle, your thoughts?” McGonagall turned to the other headmistress.

“I’m afraid I see no other options. Mildred will simply have to care for the creature until it is old enough to return to the wild.”

“Ada,” HB said softly, eyes pleading. “Do we really think having a baby dragon within our walls, a baby dragon which will grow very rapidly, is the best action we can take?”

Miss Cackle’s eyes flicked from the dragon to Mildred to HB, and Millie wished she could read minds.

“The alternative is the allow a dragonling to die. A child of an already endangered species. I will not have that on my conscience. I’m sure we can make arrangements, Miss Hardbroom.”

HB pursed her lips and Millie could see the veins pulsing in her neck.

“Mildred, if you could step outside, I believe your mother is very excited to see you.”

“Thank you, Miss Cackle,” Millie grinned, hurrying out of the tent.

As soon as she pulled the flap back she was yanked into a hug and heard her friend’s victorious squeals ringing in her eardrums. Maud and Enid immediately began fawning over the little black dragon, who only chirped happily at their attention.

“Do you get to keep it?” her mum asked, looking very nervous at the prospect.

“He kind of got attached. Mr Weasley said it happens sometimes with dragonlings. And Miss Cackle says I have to keep him, or he’ll die.”

“That’s so cool,” Maud whispered, patting it’s little head gently. “I mean not the dying part the having your own baby dragon part.”

“What’re you going to call him?” Enid scratched his chin, and he purred loudly.

“I was thinking, Ignatius.”

“Iggy,” Maud grinned. “Welcome to Cackle’s, Iggy Hubble.”

“Come on, you’ve got to show Rose!” Enid said, taking Millie’s hand and going to pull her away toward the throng of students.

“Millie-love, wait a moment,” her mum said, taking her arm to hold her in place.

“I’ll catch up with you guys in a second,” Millie nodded to Maud and Enid, who took and cue and left to find Rose, still bouncing excitedly.

Her mum steered her around the side of the tent, away from prying eyes, and pulled Millie into a tight hug. Millie sunk into it gratefully.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” she asked, lifting Millie’s chin and looking her over with a nurses gaze. “Because that was terrifying.”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Millie grinned. “Are you okay?”

“Honestly Millie, not one bit. I was terrified. Not only are dragons real but now you have one!”

As Millie opened her mouth to respond but at that moment HB came storming out the back of the tent, Miss Pentangle hurrying out after her. Millie pulled her mum out of sight and motioned to be quiet, and thankfully, she obeyed.

“First a wand… now a _dragon_?” HB blustered.

“What are you worried about, Hiccup? That she’s becoming too much like you?” Miss Pentangle prodded, cheeky as ever, a soft grip of HB’s arm to keep her from running.

HB took a deep breath, and schooled her face into a neutral expression.

“Why shouldn’t I worry about that possibility, Pippa?”

Miss Pentangle stepped into HB’s personal space and kissed her cheek delicately, her lips turned up in her most understanding and patient smile, the one Millie knew was reserved only for Miss Hardbroom.

“If she could be so lucky…”


	5. Lucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter is kind of cute, but the next chapter is frickin adorable so just you wait. I hope you enjoy!

“We have to get partners for the Ball too? Oh god, I forgot about that,” Millie slumped back onto her bed. “Who am I going to ask? It’s not like I know any of the guys, except maybe Scorpius and Albus.”

“You don’t have to pick a guy, Millie. This isn’t an ordinary person thing, remember? We don’t have those weird rules.”

Millie sat up very suddenly. “I don’t have to pick a boy! Thank Merlin. I was not looking forward to that.”

“Enid and I are going together,” Maud nodded, but at Millie’s quizzical look, she shook her head. “Just as friends. Elsie is going with some Pentangle called Xavier. I don’t think Rose is going with anyone?”

“Oh, Rose… no, I think I’ll ask someone else…” Millie tried very hard to supress the harsh blush that coloured her cheeks.

“Why not?” And then Maud looked up. “Millie! You should ask her!”

Millie spun onto her side and buried her face in her pillow. Ignatius snuggled into her chest with a loud purr.

“Well, you’d better decide soon, or someone else will ask her,” Maud said matter-of-factly. “And you know Millie, I’m pretty sure she’d say yes.”

***

“Miss Cackle?”

“Yes, Mildred?” Miss Cackle smiled over the rim of her glasses at Millie hovering by her open door.

“Miss Cackle, I was wondering if you could help me with something?”

“Of course, if I can.”

Millie bounced in and took the seat across from Miss Cackle, trying not to fidget too much.

“Well, at the Yule Ball, Miss Cackle, I read that its traditional for the Head and Deputy of the host school to dance with the visiting Heads.”

Miss Cackle nodded encouragement. “That is true.”

“I was wondering if… maybe, if it doesn’t interfere with something I don’t know about, if maybe you could ask Professor McGonagall to dance?”

“And why would I do that?” Miss Cackle asked, eyebrow raised, lifting her teacup to her lips.

“So that Miss Hardbroom will have to dance with Miss Pentangle.”

The teacup froze, and then lowered very gently to its saucer.

“I see.”

Millie twisted the end of her sash.

“You certainly are more perceptive than Hecate seems to give you credit for.”

Millie grinned.

“Very well, I will dance with Professor McGonagall. But I hope that is the extent of your plans, Mildred. It wouldn’t do to ruin Miss Hardbroom’s Yule.”

“Yes, Miss Cackle.”

“Very well, if that’s all,” Miss Cackle leant back in her seat.

“Thanks, Miss Cackle,” Millie grinned, bounding to the door before a thought struck her. “Miss Cackle, do you think they’ll ever realise they’re in love?”

Miss Cackle raised her eyes from her papers and examined Mildred carefully before sighing. “I don’t know, Mildred. Sometimes I think they’re so worried that they couldn’t possibly be, they don’t realise that they already are.”

Millie nodded, thoughtful.

“But Mildred, I really shouldn’t discuss your teachers like this. I think we can agree that this conversation stays in here, do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss Cackle.”

***

“And then she said maybe they were so worried about not being in love, that they couldn’t see that they already are, or something like that.” Millie gestured at Elsie with a sour strap. “What do you think?”

“I think Miss Pentangle is head over heels and she really needs to figure it out. Whenever she visits Cackle’s, she always comes back like she’s floating on a cloud made of rainbows and fairy floss.”

Millie snorted. “You’re lucky. HB just gets really grumpy when Miss Pentangle leaves. She always assigns extra homework.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Enid asked, reaching for another Every Flavour Bean.

“I told you, get Miss Pentangle and HB to dance at Yule.”

“No but what’s the _real_ plan?” Enid rolled her eyes.

“Real plan?”

“If they’ve managed to pretend this long, one dance isn’t going to break them.”

“Oh… well… I guess you’re right. That’s as far as I’d gotten.”

“Okay well,” Rose reached into her side table and pulled out a stack of parchment, pencils and quills. “It’s a good start, but Enid’s right. We need something more. Everyone write down one idea and then we’ll pick the best one.”

They scattered and scribbled and came back together, and Millie began drawing ideas from the hat.

“Dinner for two with secret invitation. Lock them in a cupboard. Who wrote this?” Millie showed the paper, but no one confessed. “They’re witches, they can just transfer out.”

Millie drew another and shook her head. “Polyjuice potion and confess love. Yeah, no, that’s not happening.” Millie ripped up that square of paper and tossed it away. “This one just says… Felix Felicis.”

“Of course!” Rose bounced to her feet. “How come I didn’t think of that?”

“Because that’s insane,” Elsie objected. “Whose idea was that?”

Enid grinned and raised her hand. “Mine.”

“Where would we even get some? Isn’t that like, crazy hard to brew?” Maud asked, sitting up a bit.

“Near impossible,” Rose nodded. “But you know what? I think I might know someone.”

***

The door Rose knocked on seemed plain enough, but by now Millie knew that nothing was ever as it seemed when magic was involved.

“How do you know him again?”

“He taught my parents. He really, really likes to play favourites, and I’m betting my hat HB would be one of them.”

The door swung inward to reveal a very round, very bald man in a three piece suit.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise!” he smiled politely. “Rose Granger-Weasley. Growing up fast, I see.”

“Well met, Professor Slughorn,” Rose dipped her head.

“Please come in, come in,” Slughorn pulled the door back and invited them in with a flourish. “And your friend too, of course.”

“Mildred Hubble. Well met,” Millie touched her hand to her forehead and followed Rose over the threshold.

“Yes, yes, well met. I’ll pop on a pot of tea and you can tell me all about what brings you here.”

Slughorn’s house was fairly subdued, aside of the various displayed paraphernalia; certificates and trophies and photographs, not many of which actually bore the name Slughorn.

He shuffled in with a tray of tea and offered them both a cup, which Rose accepted. Millie only half listened to his musings as he chattered away, reliving glory days that didn’t particularly interest her. Mostly, she was standing at the wall, examining the photos that filled every inch of free space on the wall, trying to see if she could recognise anyone.

Professor McGonagall was in a few, and a young Professor Potter. There was one with the Great Wizard, one shaking hands with Miss Drill in full Quidditch dress, and one in a big group with a young Miss Cackle.

Her eyes locked onto smaller frame that held what looked to be a team of Quidditch players hoisting a great trophy over their heads and smiling at the camera. A very young but equally grim HB stood slightly away from the rowdy group, and looked as though she’d rather be absolutely anywhere else.

“Ah yes,” Slughorn droned, and Millie jump. He didn’t seem to notice as he peered over her shoulder. “My great nephew’s Quidditch team. Four seasons undefeated, and I’m sure young Winston was a big part of that.”

“Is that Miss Hardbroom?” Millie asked, even though she knew the answer.

“Ah yes, Hecate Hardbroom. Seeker, if I recall correctly. Never got to teach her, sadly. I wish I could see her mind in action. Only met her once, with your parents, actually, Rose. They invited her to join the Order of the Phoenix, after that dreadful battle in, what was it, ‘98? She said no, tragically. She’d have made a very fine Auror, and a distinguished member, I’m sure. But I suppose we can’t all be Aurors, and she’s a very fine potions mistress, I hear. Of course, I must approve of such professions, it being my own.”

“She’s why we’re here, Professor,” Rose chimed in. “It’s about Miss Hardbroom.”

“Oh?” Slughorn turned to her. “You know her?”

“She’s Millie’s potions teacher at Cackle’s Academy.”

Slughorn’s eyes slid back to Millie, something glinting behind them, and she smiled sheepishly.

“Is that so?”

It was another hour and a half before Millie and Rose were mounting their brooms and speeding back to Cackle’s, but it was nothing less than a success. Horace Slughorn had a new picture on his wall, smiling beside the only living magical descendant of Mirabelle Hubble, the witch who successfully reignited a Founding Stone, and Millie had a small bottle of golden liquid tucked safely into her pocket.

They landed just as the dinner bell was clanging, tossed their brooms back into the sports shed with all the care of tossing a tree branch, and raced back toward the castle.

“If we’re late HB will ask why and we can’t explain so…” Millie yanked the front door open to find that very witch glaring down at her.

“Explain what, Mildred Hubble?” Miss Hardbroom asked.

Millie stumbled back into Rose, who grabbed her arm to save her from a clumsy tumble.

“Care to explain where you have been?”

“A walk,” Rose blurted out, grabbing Millie’s hand and clutching it tightly. Millie tried to calm the sudden butterflies that erupted in her stomach.

“To where exactly, Rose… Granger… Weasley?” HB’s eyes flicked to their hands, though she made no comment.

“To… to the woods.”

HB glanced between them, eyes narrowed.

“Detention. Both of you.”

“For what?” Millie squeaked.

“For lying. Unless you want to tell me _exactly_ where you have been?”

Millie felt the bottle of liquid luck suddenly burning a hole in her thigh.

“Like Rose said… to the woods,” Millie nodded, trying not to colour at the prospect of a walk in the woods with Rose.

“And that is a second detention. Do not be late.” HB raised her hand to transfer, and her mouth twitched. “Mildred Hubble.”

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom?”

“Bring your wand.”

And then she was gone, and Millie’s shoulders wilted. Rose was still clutching her hand, and she didn’t make a move to let go.

“Sorry about getting you detention,” Millie offered dejectedly.

“Sorry? Are you kidding? I thought she was going to skin us! Detention is just fine.”

Millie grinned, and Rose flushed before gently letting go of her hand and ducking through the door.

“Come on, or we’ll miss dinner.”

***

Millie and Rose had barely arrived at the door to the potions lab when they heard HB’s sharp “Enter”, and the door swung inward.

The potions mistress was standing like a pillar in the centre of the room, Professor Potter beside her, looking a lot more welcoming and a lot less pillar-like. The main space had been cleared of all clutter and desks, and the cauldrons had been cleared away, making the whole room feel almost barren.

“Mildred, Rose,” Professor Potter smiled. “Glad you could make it.”

“They have detention, Professor. It was not a matter of ‘making it’,” Miss Hardbroom rolled her eyes.

“Right, of course,” Potter pursed his lips to supress a smirk.

“Now,” HB’s eyes flicked to Mildred. “Did you bring your wand, Mildred?”

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom,” Millie nodded, clutching it tight.

“I have asked Professor Potter here tonight to assist with a lesson that I feel may prove prudent. He has been generous enough to agree to assist me.”

HB flicked her wrist and the door clicked shut.

“If you would, Professor,” she gestured to the pair, stepping back.

“Of course, thank you, Miss Hardbroom. Now then, Mildred and Rose, I need to be very clear that this is quiet advanced magic. There are many adult witches and wizards who cannot cast this spell, and many more who can only complete it to an adequate, but not advanced, level. What I’m saying is, if you can’t manage this, there is absolutely nothing wrong. In fact, I would be very surprised if either of you cast it tonight.”

Millie and Rose nodded along, growing more and more curious with every word.

“Miss Hardbroom has asked me here to teach you the Patronus Charm. It is type of shielding spell that works specifically on Dementors, dark creators who feed on suffering and fear.”

Millie’s eyes grew wide, and beside her Rose bit back an excited grin.

“Though the technique is simple, the practice of this spell is extremely difficult. There are two kinds of Patronuses; incorporeal and corporeal. They do much the same thing, though a corporeal Patronus is more difficult to produce, and a more powerful shield. In order to cast this spell, you must conjure in your mind a very clear, very happy memory. The happiest you have, preferably. And you must keep that clarity in your mind. You must remember why you were happy, and why you can be happy again. And then…”

The Professor slipped a wand from his robes and raised it with purpose.

“ _Expecto Patronum_.”

Millie gasped as a gleaming stag leapt from the end of his wand and bound its way around the potions lab, leaving a trail of light wherever it stepped.

“What memory did you choose?” she asked, before HB shot her a lethal glare. Too personal?

“I was remembering my wedding day,” Professor Potter smiled. “How happy my wife was, and how happy she made me.”

Millie tried to think of a happy memory, something strong enough to work. Maybe, when she got into Cackle’s? Or winning the Spelling Bee? Or her twelfth birthday party, when she’d taken Maud and Enid bowling and they’d stayed up all night watching movies.

“To begin, show me your stance,” Professor Potter instructed, sliding his wand back into his robes. “Wands raised, and concentrate.”

Millie held her wand in a tight grip, glancing over to Rose, who had a glint of determination in her eye.

“You must annunciate clearly. Everything about a Patronus must be certain and strong. Dementors are extremely unpleasant creatures, and they will use any crack in your defences to break through. Say it for me. Expecto Patronum.”

“Expecto Patronum,” Millie and Rose tried in unison.

“Good. Again.”

“Expecto Patronum.”

“Again.”

“Expecto Patronum!”

“Again.”

“ _Expecto Patronum_!”

“Good, good. And what memories did you choose?” the Professor looked to Rose first.

“I was remembering my first game of Quidditch.”

The Professor nodded, thoughtful. “Not bad at all. Though I wonder Rose, no need to share of course, but is there something even stronger you could focus on. Maybe a family gathering, or a personal triumph? Something more innate to who you are.”

Rose nodded, biting her lip, thinking. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask. And Mildred?”

“I was remembering… I was thinking of the day the ice melted. Waking up from nothingness, and my mother was there. I remembered seeing everyone at Halloween that night, and after everything, it felt like we were all going to be okay.”

The Professor smiled. “Excellent. Continue with that memory, if it’s your strongest.”

Behind them, HB was trying very hard to blink back tears.

“Patronuses,” Miss Pentangle smiled from the doorway, and HB’s head snapped to meet her. Millie jumped a little. She hadn’t even heard the door open. “That’s a bit drastic, don’t you think, Hecate?”

“Preparation is never drastic, Pippa,” HB said, tone crisp, standing a little straighter as Miss Pentangle stepped into the room properly.

“You certainly aren’t wrong,” the pink witch smiled, and a thought struck Millie.

“Do you have a Patronus, Miss Pentangle?” she asked.

“I do indeed.”

“Can I, I mean, can we see it?”

HB looked on the verge of panic, but Miss Pentangle only smiled and Millie watched fascinated as she raised her hand, no wand in sight.

“ _Expecto Patronum_ ,” she commanded, and a soft ball of pale light began to gather among her fingers, and as she flicked her wrist a silver Horned Owl came swooping from her grasp, fluttering around the room and trailing light among the wooden beams above.

Millie’s eyes darted about, following its glistening path before it dissipated in the air.

“Miss Pentangle, what did you remember to summon it?” Rose asked, and HB’s eyes grew very wide.

Millie swore she saw colour rise in Miss Pentangle’s cheeks.

“I’m afraid I’d rather keep that to myself, Rose. Though I’m sure you don’t need my inspiration. Now, I hate to interrupt, but I was wondering if I might borrow Miss Hardbroom?”

Miss Pentangle and HB evaporated with a wave of the potion mistress’s hand, and Potter shook his head slightly, chuckling.

“Is that how she goes everywhere? Just Transferring here and there with a flick of her wrist?”

Millie snorted. “Yeah, pretty much. HB pretends to be all reserved and traditional but she’s actually super dramatic.”

As detention drew to a close two hours later, they were both yet to cast a Patronus. Professor Potter and HB didn’t seem in the least bit perturbed by it, citing that it was very advanced magic, and they simply needed to be equipped with the knowledge, for now.

***

“That seems pretty simple to me,” Maud nodded, biting into another cookie. “We know they’re definitely going to be dancing together, so they’re basically halfway there.”

“Okay, but which one do we give it to?” Rose waved a chocolate frog at the assembled friends.

“I mean, does it matter?” Enid asked.

“Yeah, I think it does,” Millie said, pulling herself into a sitting position. “I mean, it’s not just going to get them together, right? It’s going to be luck for however many hours. Not just with love, but everything. So, who do we want to make lucky for a whole day?”

The girls looked to each other, Elsie swallowing her mouthful. There was a clear chorus of “Miss Pentangle,” and they all giggled.

***

December 1st arrived far too quickly, and a thick layer of snow came with it. Millie was desperately aware that she was rapidly running out of time to ask Rose to the Yule Ball. Maud had been slipping her encouragement, trying to push her subtly in Rose’s direction, but in the end it was Millie’s courage that failed every time she had the chance to ask.

It was that afternoon in their free period that they found themselves studying in Maud’s room together, the Cackle’s trio, Elsie and Rose, books strewn around as they tried to finish tomorrow’s chanting and potions homework. Millie was flipping through a textbook from her place on the floor when Maud slipped a piece of paper into her hand with a meaningful stare. Millie looked up at her with a question written across her face, and Maud just pushed the note further into her grip.

Millie unfolded it and read.

_Heard that Francis U. from Pentangle’s asked Rose to the Ball and she said she’d think about it. Get on with it Millie! Or she might say yes to someone else!_

Millie’s head snapped up and Maud jabbed her head toward Rose, who sat studying across from them, oblivious.

Millie felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she scrunched up the note and shoved it in her pocket, hurriedly turning back to her essay. Maud just sighed and closed her books, already finished.

“Anyone need a hand?” she asked.

Rose sat back and scrunched up her face. “I think I’m missing something, but I can’t figure out what. Do you guys have a copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_?”

“Millie does!” Maud said, a little too quickly.

“Yeah,” Millie sat up straighter before remembering. “Umm, but it’s in our room. I can go and get it for you though.”

Millie flipped her book shut and clambered to her feet.

“I’ll come with you,” Rose smiled, rising.

“Oh, umm, sure,” Millie nodded, trying very hard not to blush.

As they turned to go, Maud made several erratic hand gestures that seemed to translate to _You’re running out of time! Ask her!_ before Elsie gave her a funny look and Millie shut the door behind them.

Alone now in the corridor, Millie was suddenly very, very nervous. She didn’t even realise she was loitering until Rose pointed down the corridor with a thumb.

“Our room, right?”

“Right,” Millie leapt into action, hurrying down the corridor.

Neither said a word all the way to their room, and all the time Millie was rummaging in the trunk at the end of her bed. Finally, after an eternity in silence, Millie felt the corner of the book and saw the green cover beneath, pulling it out with a triumphant “This is the one!”

She passed it to the waiting Rose, who leapt off her bed and took it.

“Thanks,” she said brightly. “I owe you.”

“Nah, I wasn’t using it anyway,” Millie shook her head, closing the trunk without bothering to fix the mess she’d just created. She stood and brushed the dust off her knees as Rose wandered to the door.

_Come on Millie! If you don’t at least ask, you’ll never know! And you don’t want to be the only Champion without a date!_

“Umm, Rose…”

Rose paused, one hand on the door, and looked over to her.

“Can I ask you something?” Millie felt giddy, and her hand began to shake.

“Of course,” Rose shrugged, letting go the handle and turning to face her properly.

“I was wondering if, I mean obviously you can say no,” Millie began, trying to remember the speech she’d been rehearsing for three straight weeks and suddenly finding she couldn’t recall a word of it. She forged on anyway. “And I’ll totally get it, if you do say no. I mean I’m sure you’re probably already going with someone, but I mean, if you’re not, and you’d like to, would you… would you like to go to the Yule Ball… with me?”

Rose clutched the book to her chest and blushed.

_Oh no… oh goddess this was a mistake and now Rose was going to be embarrassed and things would be weird between them and…_

“I’d love to.”

“You… you would?”

Rose stepped into her space and leaned forward to kiss Millie gently on the cheek.

Millie suddenly found herself fused to the stone beneath her feet, and could barely blink as Rose stepped back again.

“Yeah, I would.” Rose bit her lip, smiling softly. “What’re you, umm… what’re you wearing?”

“What am I…? Oh, ah, I don’t know yet. I haven’t really thought about it.”

Rose rocked on the balls of her feet, and Millie felt a grin spread across her face as her paralysis finally broke.

_She was going to the Yule Ball with Rose Granger-Weasley. She was going to the Ball with Rose!_

“We could match, if you wanted to?”

“Yeah,” Millie nodded. “I’d like that.”


	6. When I Saw You, I Knew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second half of this chapter is even better if you read it while listening to the ‘Potter Waltz’ and then ‘Neville’s Waltz’ from the Goblet of Fire soundtrack. My gift to you.

Millie shifted the book bag that hung over her shoulder and knocked on the door. It was one of those horribly weak half knocks that wasn’t quite loud enough, and she didn’t know if HB heard it at all. And then she caught the tail end of soft laughter, and realised HB had company.

Too late.

The door swung inward and Miss Hardbroom stood towering in the frame.

“Yes, Mildred Hubble?”

“Is that Mildred, Hecate?” Miss Pentangle called from within, and Millie blushed, realising who the company was.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just…”

Millie trailed off, ready to turn and run.

“Is it the essay I set for next week? I was under the impression you had an adequate grasp of the importance of lunar harvesting,” HB prodded, not quite as frustrated as she had initially sounded.

“No, no that’s fine. I did it already. I was just, umm… It’s a personal matter.”

“Personal?” HB blanched, eyes growing wide. She most certainly _did not_ do personal.

Suddenly Miss Pentangle was standing at HB’s shoulder, smiling down at her. “Shall I leave you two to it then?”

“No actually, maybe you could help?” Millie asked tentatively. Miss Pentangle was probably a much better option, now that Millie thought about it.

“Come on in, Mildred,” Miss Pentangle smiled, pulling the frozen HB back two paces to let her through.

“I didn’t say…” HB started, but was swiftly silenced with a look from Miss Pentangle.

“Take a seat, Mildred. Right there will do,” Miss Pentangle gestured to a crackling fireplace near two surprisingly snug armchairs positioned on either side of a chessboard in play.

All in all, despite the inordinate amount of black and the frankly ridiculous amount of books, HB’s sitting room was rather cosy. Miss Hardbroom’s familiar, Morgana, sat curled on a pillow by the window, and Millie was very much reminded of Ignatius and Tabby curled up in just the same spot in her room.

Miss Pentangle waved a hand and vanished the chessboard, sitting herself opposite Millie and summoning a tray of tea and biscuits. All the while, HB was unfreezing herself. She stepped tentatively toward Miss Pentangle’s seat and stood behind it, towering over both of them, looking her most awkward self.

“Would you like a seat, Hecate?” Miss Pentangle offered.

“I am content to stand.”

“Very well. Now then, Mildred. What can we help you with?” Miss Pentangle queried, pouring out three cups of tea and passing them around.

“Umm, so, the Yule Ball is coming up soon, and I asked Rose if she wanted to go with me… Rose Granger-Weasley, that is. And she said yes.”

“Rose Granger-Weasley, you say?” Miss Pentangle nodded approvingly. “Nice catch, Mildred.”

Millie blushed, and so did HB.

“She asked me what I was wearing, and if we wanted to match, but the thing is, I don’t have any idea what to wear. We’ve never done anything like this at Cackle’s before, and I heard someone mention something about witch’s robes but I don’t know what they are and I don’t want to disappoint Rose by messing up and wearing the wrong thing so I thought…”

Miss Pentangle reached forward and placed a hand on hers, mostly to stop Millie from pulling the hem right off her dress.

“You thought perhaps Miss Hardbroom could help you navigate the situation?”

Millie nodded. “Yeah, and maybe, you to?”

Miss Pentangle’s bright smile was almost neon, and she clapped her hands together. “We would love to!”

“We?” Miss Hardbroom glowered down at her.

“Yes, Hecate. We. You mightn’t have much sense for modern fashions but I have a feeling Mildred is looking for something a little more traditional.”

“That reminds me!” Millie suddenly remembered, leaning over to her bag and pulling _The Lineage and Vestiges of the Family Hubble_ from within and holding it out for HB, who accepted it cautiously. “I got this book from the Hubble Vault at Gringotts. It has some family colours and things, even a family crest. I was thinking I would like to wear them at the Ball. If I’m the only magical Hubble, I should be representing us, right?”

“Absolutely,” Miss Pentangle nodded. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

“That is indeed an admiral pursuit,” HB nodded, casting her eyes over the front of the old tome.

“Well, now that we have Hecate’s very esteemed seal of approval, I say we talk to Rose, and see what she’s wearing.”

***

“More black, or more gold?” Miss Pentangle asked.

Madame Malkin, of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, considered it, pulling three pins from her teeth and bringing up the hem on Millie’s robes.

“More black,” Miss Hardbroom replied without a hint of sarcasm.

Miss Pentangle just rolled her eyes and threw a swatch of gold fabric at HB, who caught it from the air before it could strike true.

“You’re only here for style tips, Hecate. No opinions on colour allowed.”

Miss Hardbroom just tapped her fingers against her watch and tried very hard not to roll her eyes.

“Too much gold on such a small witch is never a good look,” Madame Malkin gestured to the robes. “And the black matches so well with that lovely purple.”

“So, more black then,” HB smiled very slightly, and Miss Pentangle looked about ready to toss the last of the swatches in her direction when Maud and Enid finally emerged from behind the changing curtain.

“What do you think?” Maud asked, giving them a twirl.

On Millie’s insistence that she at least try something, she’d picked out robes of crimson and cream, with gold trimming and long sleeves.

“I love it,” Millie grinned. “But do you?”

Maud nodded, but her face fell a tad, and she looked a bit embarrassed. “I don’t know, Millie. I don’t think my mum and dad can afford these.”

“They don’t have to. I’m buying them for you.”

“You are?”

“Yep.”

“Millie, I couldn’t possibly…”

“Maud,” she cut her off with a firm look. “You do realise that if it wasn’t for you, I’d be at some boring ordinary school learning boring ordinary things and I wouldn’t even know magic existed? I’m buying you the robes, no more questions.”

Maud grinned. “Thanks, Millie.”

She bounced back into the changing room to take them off, unable to shake the huge grin from her face.

“Now then, you said the purple needed to match your date?” Madame Malkin asked, examining the purple swatch they’d brought along. “Or this purple here, from your family crest?”

By some miracle of fate, the purple of the Hubble Family was only a few shades lighter then Rose’s dress. Miss Pentangle had called it fate. Miss Hardbroom had almost snorted.

“The family crest, please,” Millie replied.

“Excellent, excellent,” Madame Malkin said, slipping the last of the pins in place and standing back to survey her work. “Yes, I think that should about do it.”

Beneath all the pins and extra fabric it was hard to tell what the witch’s dress robes would actually look like, but it seemed elegant, and was certainly comfortable.

“They’ll be done and sent within the week. Plenty of time for you to try them on and let me know if they’re okay.”

“Thank you,” Millie grinned.

“Thank you indeed, Madame Malkin,” Miss Pentangle smiled. “Would you mind if I had a quick word before we head off?”

“Of course, of course,” Madame Malkin nodded, leading Miss Pentangle out into the back of the shop. When Millie tried, just a little, to hear what was being said, she didn’t get a peep.

She gave up, turning back to the mirror properly and catching HB staring at her.

“They are fine robes, Mildred,” Miss Hardbroom nodded, and Millie was pretty sure her eyes were a lot damper than usual. “You will certainly do your family proud.”

***

When the dress robes arrived, Enid and Maud insisted she try them on immediately. And it wasn’t like she didn’t want to, and it wasn’t like they didn’t have a free period, so they hurried together up to her room and Maud locked the door behind them.

“In case Rose wanted to come in,” she grinned.

Millie just nodded and took the lid off the box to examine the contents. She was surprised to find a pair of shining dress shoes on the top of the pile, with a note tucked inside. Millie pulled it out and immediately noticed the sweet scent and pink ink.

> _No outfit is complete without the right pair of shoes._
> 
> _\- Miss Pentangle_

“Put it on,” Enid clapped. “Come on!”

Millie just shook her head and began to change.

The first layer was an empire waisted dress of black and deep Hubble purple, and then a long sash over her shoulder that was embroidered with a recurring pattern of the Hubble crest; a scroll crossed with a phoenix feather encased in a shield. The shoes next, and they were the exact right size, and perfectly comfortable enough for dancing.

Lastly, the robe. It was black with purple panels and gold trim, and hung open at the front to keep the Hubble sash in plain view. They even had a pocket for her wand.

Just like they’d planned, the purple would match Rose’s dress perfectly. It was just enough that they were both distinct people, but similar enough that they’d be matched effortlessly when they danced. And dance they would, according to Professor McGonagall, who had been training them up all week. Millie had gotten rather okay, she thought, and besides, dancing was fun. Especially with Rose.

***

Miss Pentangle gathered the champions and their dates at the closed doors of the Hall, and Millie could hear chatter wafting in through the cracks.

As sensational as Miss Pentangle was usually, tonight it was multiplied tenfold. Of all the many dresses in her possession, she’d selected a floor length, off-the-shoulder gown that was a delicate shade of pink and embroidered with fine roses around the hem and body. Her hair was up too, only a few strands free, exposing the fine lines of her neck and the exquisite silver and diamond necklace that hung there.

It really wasn’t hard to understand where HB was coming from, and for her sake, Millie hoped the Felix Felicis they’d slipped into Miss Pentangle’s tea was working.

Of course, the other Champion’s looked magnificent as well. Elsie wore a fantastical sky blue dress, while her date Xavier was keeping traditional in plain robes of black. Scorpius and Albus kept a similar style, though they both had dashes of silver in their dress robes and had matching Slytherin bow ties. Millie thought they both looked rather charming, grinning and messing around by the stairs, though her heart sank when she noticed how worn Scorpius’s robes seemed, fraying ever so slightly around the hem. He didn’t seem to mind though.

Millie pulled Rose away a few steps, and whispered a question that had bothered her since meeting him.

“I don’t want to sound like a mean person, but I thought the Malfoys were rich? Isn’t Scorpius a Malfoy?”

“They _were_ rich. Really rich. But after the Second Wizarding War, the Ministry stripped them of all their stuff. Their house, their money, everything. They’re getting by, but that’s got to hurt. But then I suppose it was meant to.”

“I wish I’d known,” Millie bit her lip.

“You can’t save everyone, Millie.”

“Why not?” Millie asked, almost serious.

Rose just grinned at that, shaking her head and taking Millie’s hand in her own. “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

Millie blushed just as Miss Pentangle called them back to the others and began running through the ceremony. As she was speaking, Miss Hardbroom materialised in the corridor behind her.

Millie’s jaw dropped. The Felix Felicis was _definitely_ working.

Her dress was a perfect black, and boasted a magnificent balance of fine embroidery and free flowing material, the gown falling away at her natural waistline into an astonishingly elegant skirt. Her hair was up in its habitual bun, but in it she wore a simple circlet mounted with clear gemstones.

If Millie wasn’t so very conscious of her mission, she’d have simply stood there, mouth agape, for at least another two whole minutes.

“Oh look,” Millie said, as casually as she could muster. “Miss Hardbroom is here.”

Miss Pentangle turned with a smile, and when saw her, she froze in place, mouth not quite closing properly. She couldn’t take her eyes off HB, and Millie was silently triumphant. That was, until she realised Miss Pentangle wasn’t breathing, and hadn’t been for some time, and that it probably wasn’t healthy for someone to go without air for quite this long.

“Miss Pentangle?” she asked.

No response.

“Miss Pentangle?” Millie tapped her arm gently.

“Yes, sorry what?” Miss Pentangle blinked rapidly and sucked in a breath, turning to Millie.

“Are you okay?”

“Very well, thank you Mildred. I think I just… just need a drink.” She summoned a glass of water, downed the entire thing, and then vanished the empty cup as Millie tried to hide her smile.

“This is it,” she whispered to Rose, who took a sharp breath in anticipation.

Miss Hardbroom’s certain strides slowed as she reached their little group. Miss Pentangle tried to speak, but the words seemed to die in her mouth.

“Pippa, you look very…” Miss Hardbroom’s eyes flicked over her dress, dragging themselves back to her face, and then her lips, and then her eyes proper. “You are exquisite.”

Miss Pentangle blushed deeply, eyes drifting over Miss Hardbroom’s own dress, lingering a little too long in certain places.

“And yet even at my finest, I’ll never hold a candle to you.”

“Don’t say that,” Miss Hardbroom whispered, though her tone was firm. “It has never been true.”

The silence between them stretched on, and Millie was trying to think of ways to break the tension when Miss Pentangle suddenly blinked herself out of her stupor.

“Champions, are we all ready?”

There was a chorus of excitement and Miss Pentangle smiled. “Excellent.”

Even as she tried to pull her eyes from HB, they drifted back to her as if by some hidden magic.

There was as soft _whoosh_ and Miss Cackle and Professor McGonagall materialised before them, looking splendid in suspiciously well matched robes of blue, black and silver.

Miss Cackle opened her mouth to speak but paused to let her eyes flick over both HB and Miss Pentangle.

“Well,” she said finally. “No need to worry about judging a best dressed award. We have out winners.”

“That’s very kind of you, Ada,” Miss Pentangle flashed her pearl white teeth, even as Miss Hardbroom blushed deeply, not quite meeting anyone’s gaze.

Miss Cackle smiled. “Now then, for the Unity Waltz, Hecate, you will dance with Pippa, and I with Minerva.”

“Pippa and I?” HB choked, glancing to a wide eyed Miss Pentangle. “Ada, I don’t think…”

“Nonsense. I know you’re an excellent dancer, so no excuses.”

“Ada…”

“It’s tradition, Hecate.”

At that, HB stood a little straighter. “Yes, well. Then I suppose if it’s only one dance.”

“And don’t forget to have fun!” the Headmistress said, as she turned to the others. “Is everyone ready?”

Millie nodded along with the rest of the Champions, looking over to Rose with a fluttering heart. “Ready?”

“I hope so,” Rose nodded, taking a deep breath to calm herself, though Millie didn’t know why she’d be nervous. She was the prettiest girl here.

“Remember, two lines straight to the dance floor, and the music will count you in,” Miss Pentangle smiled, and then with a wave of Miss Cackle’s hand, the four teachers disappeared.

“Did you see HB?” Rose burst out excitedly, grabbing Millie’s arm.

“Did you see Miss Pentangle?” Millie grinned.

“It was to work now. It has to,” Rose insisted, though Millie wasn’t arguing. They stepped into line properly and looked out as the doors to the Hall drew back and a sea of familiar faces stood parted down a long aisle, waiting for their Champions.

Elsie and Xavier stepped off, leading the six of them down rows of their applauding peers and straight onto the dancefloor.

The room fell silent, and Miss Bat raised a hand to the assembled orchestra, tapping a baton against her stand. With a flourish, the orchestra began to play a beautiful and lively waltz, and the Champion’s began the first dance.

Millie didn’t have to count her steps or even think about her feet. She just let Rose take her wherever she wanted, guiding her around the dancefloor like it was the easiest thing she’d ever done.

Millie could only kind of hear the music, and could only kind of see the crowds. Mostly, she was looking at Rose. Her colouring cheeks and her bright blue eyes. The way her gaze flicked to Millie’s lips. The way her mouth pulled up at one corner, as though she wanted to smile, but was a little too nervous.

All too soon the music was coming to a close, and Millie realised the dance floor had filled up around them, other students and teachers taking to the floor with their partners.

Suddenly they were engulfed by a chattering Maud and Enid, looking fabulous in their own robes. Enid grabbed Millie around and waist and lifted her up.

“You didn’t trip over!”

“Not even once!” Maud echoed, impressed, as they moved off away from the thickest parts for the crowd.

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t,” Millie grinned, still clutching Rose’s hand. “So, did HB and Miss Pentangle dance or what?”

“No, that’s next, for the School Unity Waltz.”

Even as she said it, a classical rendition of the Hogwarts and Pentangle school songs was coming to a close and , and the dancefloor cleared once again. Rose looked excitedly across the floor, clutching Millie’s arm and leaning over.

“Here goes.”

Millie followed her gaze to where Miss Hardbroom had extricated herself the crowd, stepping out onto the empty dancefloor and turning back to Miss Pentangle. She bowed deeply, one hand to her forehead, the other outstretched in offering.

“May I have this Unity Waltz, Headmistress Pentangle?”

The brightness of Miss Pentangle’s smile could rival that of a supernova as she returned the bow and accepted Miss Hardbroom’s hand.

“I would like nothing more.”

HB led her to the centre of the empty floor as Miss Cackle did the same for Professor McGonagall, and the first bars of a waltz began to play. It was a much slower waltz than the one Millie and Rose had just danced, and one that carried more weight in every note.

No offence to Miss Cackle and Professor McGonagall, but Millie didn’t see a thing of them after that. She was focused solely on the swirling forms of pink and black that glided effortlessly around the dancefloor, carrying the candlelight with them, and no doubt capturing more than a few hearts in the process.

The music seemed to play in service to their dance, as they carried every note in the lightness of their step and the rise of their arms and the grace of their twirls.

Millie couldn’t even tell who was leading, they moved with such certainty of action. Watching them dance was like watching a galaxy born, or a planet formed, or maybe, just two people in love.

When the song came to a close and HB and Miss Pentangle ended in a perfect bow, even Miss Cackle and Professor McGonagall were watching. When the world returned to Miss Hardbroom and she realised they being watched, she swept off the dance floor without another word, the crowd flooding back behind her as the next song began.

***

Millie and Rose remained joined at the hip all night, and she loved every minute. They danced and snacked and laughed with their friends, and she was so lost in her enjoyment she almost forgot that Miss Pentangle’s luck would be rapidly running out.

“Should we do something about it?” Rose asked.

“Don’t you think we’ve done enough?” Millie shrugged. “I mean, if a pure luck potion won’t help them, maybe we can think of something else later?”

She looked around to see if she could spot the pink witch, and just as she found her, she saw Miss Pentangle down her entire drink and vanish the goblet with a wave. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, before sweeping across the room toward the pillar of sophistication that was Miss Hardbroom, who stood glaring like a hawk at the students around her.

“Hecate.”

Miss Hardbroom turned, looking almost surprised. Almost.

“Dance with me again?” Miss Pentangle offered her hand.

“Why?” HB blinked.

“Because I’m asking you to.”

Miss Hardbroom frowned slightly, considering it and then caved without much fight, taking Miss Pentangle’s offered hand and allowing herself to be guided toward the dancefloor.

As they stepped into place, the music slowed dramatically, and Miss Pentangle gently pulled HB a little closer as the next song began. Millie swore she saw Miss Bat give the couple a pointed look before slowing the orchestra and instructing the vocalist to begin.

> _“Life's a game, but who can play it all alone?_
> 
> _Ev'ry chap should hold a heart that's all his own.”_

Miss Pentangle shifted her hands to HB’s waist, drawing her in.

> _“Love may come at first sight, they told me,_
> 
> _When I saw you, I knew;_
> 
> _I had found my only love,_
> 
> _When I met you.”_

They were moving subtly closer and closer, and closer still, until their lips were barely an inch apart.

> _“So, darling, I know that you know,_
> 
> _That I'll go where you go,_
> 
> _I choose you, won't lose you,_
> 
> _I wish you knew how much I long to hold you.”_

Millie had a feeling they had no idea there was a world outside of their few feet of dancefloor.

> _“This time is my time,_
> 
> _Will soon be goodbye time,_
> 
> _In the starlight, hold me tight;_
> 
> _With one more little kiss say nighty-night.”_

Suddenly HB slowed and stepped out of Miss Pentangle’s arms, eyes wide. The music powered on, and around them no one else noticed.

“I’m sorry I… I have to go.”

And she was gone, leaving Miss Pentangle alone on the dancefloor, hurt and disbelief evident on her face. Then her disbelief twisted into determination, and she dissolved with a wave of her hand.

Millie blinked at the sudden turn of event.

“Maybe they really will sort it out on their own?” Rose shrugged, taking Millie’s hand and tugging her toward the dancefloor. “Dance with me?”

***

From the moment Pippa had downed her cup of tea that morning, she knew that today was the day. Tonight, at the ball, she’d finally take the leap.

When she saw Hecate in that dress, Pippa knew she couldn’t… no… she _wouldn’t_ hold it in any longer. Not to mention, she couldn’t take it anymore. She was almost sure Hecate felt something too. She’d seen her looking, felt her hand ghost over her hips, seen the way her heart sang when they were dancing, heard the way she breathed the word ‘exquisite’.

And when she had stepped out of her arms and disappeared, Pippa knew she couldn’t let her get away. Couldn’t let her think she would allow her to leave like that again.

In a moment she was reaching out with a finding spell, and in the next she was transferring to the battlements, where Hecate stood shivering in the night air. She had her arms at her sides, not even bothering to cast a warming spell. She was punishing herself, Pippa knew.

“Please,” Hecate said without looking to her. “Leave me in peace.”

“No,” Pippa answered flatly. “If you wanted to be alone, we both know I wouldn’t have been able to find you.”

Hecate’s posture tensed even further, but she said nothing. Pippa knew that she expected anger, but better than that, Pippa knew she wasn’t going to give it to her. She stepped forward and lay a tentative hand on her arm.

“Please don’t. I can’t…”

“You can’t what, darling?” Pippa asked softly.

“I see you. I see you and you can’t… you can’t love me.” Hecate stepped out of her grip again, pulling away. “You just… can’t.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what I feel,” Pippa’s reply was quiet but firm.

“But I’m… me,” Hecate’s voice began to break, taking Pippa’s heart with it. “And you’re… you’re the most dedicate, and generous, and kind soul. And I… I would ruin you. If you get too close, I will ruin everything that I love about you.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“It is the truth.”

“You’re such a good liar,” Pippa shook her head disbelieving, eyes not leaving Hecate, though Hecate wouldn’t meet hers. “You even convinced yourself.”

“I was never good enough, not for you.” It wasn’t an accusation, it was an admission. “And I never will be. Everyone knows it. Everyone always knew it.”

At that Pippa seized her arm to keep her from escaping again, and stepped into her body, taking her chin and lifting it to meet her gaze.

“I am better for every moment I spend with you. I am devoted because you taught me dedication. I am kind because I enjoy kindness, especially yours. I am giving because it leaves the world better, and you taught me that. I think you must have forgotten how it was in the years before you left, and how cruel and intolerant I could be, before I met you. You taught me these things that you love. Everyone that didn’t see it was a fool.”

That must have been the right thing to say, because Hecate’s tension seemed to ease and she allowed Pippa to step closer.

“With your permission,” Pippa breathed. “I’d very much like to kiss you.”

Hecate didn’t answer, just lifted her finger to Pippa’s cheek, ghosting over her jaw.

“That would be… acceptable.”

But before Pippa could move Hecate was already gathering her up and she was melting into her arms, giving over without hesitation. She kissed her, and it was deep and full of longing. When they surfaced for air, Hecate’s expression read nothing less than a plea for approval.

“You know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” Pippa murmured.

“All night?”

“My whole life.”

Until the sun rose the next morning, Hecate spent her night eagerly compensating Pippa for a whole lifetime of waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title and lyrics from ‘I Know That You Know’ by Leslie Odom, Jr., though the version I had in mind would be significantly slowed for the dance.  
> Also Pippa 100% charmed Millie’s shoes to make sure she didn’t trip herself up.


	7. When the Red Moon Rises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from ‘Red Moon’ by Missy Higgins. Can recommend. 
> 
> Okay, when I said this fic got dark, this is the chapter I was talking about. This chapter has angst, unreservedly. If this really isn’t your thing, you can still safely read up until you see these stars, ******, and then join us again for the next chapter. I want everyone to be able to enjoy this fic, regardless!
> 
> CW: past/present abuse, death and murder, Harry Potter canon typical violence.

Millie woke every day that week with a huge grin on her face. Life was simple, but good.

She spent every morning with her friends, playing Quidditch or pouring over books or playing tricks on each other, and every afternoon with HB and Professor Potter, and occasionally with Miss Pentangle, learning wand magic and about how to raise a baby dragon. HB seemed to know an inordinate amount about rearing dragons, but when Millie asked she just waved her hand and said that a witch should always be prepared. Millie didn’t want to ruin things by insisting she elaborate.

Ignatius had settled into her routine easily, napping with Tabby, or sometimes in Millie’s schoolbag, or even on her shoulders while she worked. Except in when she was making potions, because HB insisted he remain a solid eight feet from her cauldron at all times, which honestly Millie understood, and she happily complied.

After her extra lessons she’d return to her friends and they’d experiment with new magic and play games until they grew tired and went their separate ways for bed. And then the next morning, they’d wake and do it all again.

After the Yule Ball, there was one thing that was absolutely obvious to all those that knew what they were looking for. The Felix Felicis had worked. Every morning HB and Miss Pentangle appeared for breakfast, very conspicuously together. And once, when Millie knocked on the potions lab door, Ignatius in hand and ready for another lesson, she had the rather mortifying job of telling HB she had pink lipstick on her cheek, but they silently agreed to never speak of that again.

Ethel kept spitting her usual vitriol, though she seemed to be getting crueller and louder as the Third Task drew near. But even her constant pestering couldn’t bring Millie down, especially not when Rose leapt to her defence every time Ethel opened her mouth.

It was during a particularly loud rant in the library that Rose finally snapped, and Ethel met her match. She was spitting utter nonsense to her gathered goons, and Rose stood up and slammed her book down onto the table, scaring everyone within earshot. She glared at Ethel, and the blonde’s head snapped over to meet her glower, falling silent mid taunt.

“Will you shut up, Ethel!” Rose was keeping her anger remarkably well managed, sounding more frustrated than angry. “Why are you like this? She’s never done anything to you. I’ve drank gurdyroot tea that’s less bitter than you are, and it doesn’t make you cool or funny, it makes you pathetic.”

“What do you know?” Ethel sneered, trying to seem nonchalant about the insults, even though Millie knew they would have sunk deep. “You’ve only known her for like three months.”

“Yeah, and it only took about three seconds to figure out that she’s brave and kind and funny and generous, and that you are none of those things.”

Ethel’s nostrils flared at that, and her eyes flicked to Millie.

“Why are you even standing up for her, anyway?” She tried to change the subject. “It’s not like she’s your girlfriend.”

“Yes, she is,” Rose said without missing a beat, and Ethel went very red.

“Oh.” Ethel turned away, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Even her cronies weren’t sure what to do with that.

Millie’s heart sang. After all, that was how she found out she had a girlfriend. In a funny way, she was grateful to Ethel and her jabbering, because she hadn’t had the courage to ask Rose herself, and now she knew. It was a very nice feeling, to know she had a girlfriend. And it was an even nicer feeling to know it was Rose.

***

The day before the new year, Millie was sat down to lunch with her friends when she heard a commotion in the corridor outside of the Hall and there was a soft crack of the magical variety. The sandwich at her lips froze. Well, at least it wasn’t her fault this time, whatever it was.

A moment later the doors burst open and in strode a witch and two wizards in flowing black robes.

Rose stood from her seat, surprised. “Mum? Dad?”

The Minister for Magic turned to Rose and gave her a gentle smile and a reassuring nod but didn’t slow, and the red headed wizard behind her gave Rose a thumbs up. They stepped straight up to a rather perplexed Miss Cackle at the staff table.

They gave the traditional greetings before they had a hushed and frantic conversation that lasted less than a few seconds. She only saw HB’s face, growing paler and paler with every passing moment.

Suddenly Miss Cackle stepped to the head of the Hall and raised her hands for quiet.

“All students are to proceed to the dungeons immediately. Leave everything and go now.”

The students looked to each other, confusion and dawning terror evident.

“Go!” Miss Hardbroom stepped forward, and the students scrambled.

Millie looked to her friends, who were pale and moving fast, dumping their lunch and heading for the door.

“Mildred Hubble,” Miss Hardbroom materialised before her, blocking her path. “Not you. You will come with me.”

“Millie!” It was Rose, pushing back toward her.

Millie felt a hand rest on her shoulder, and she looked up to find the Minister for Magic herself holding her in place.

“Mildred Hubble?” Rose’s mum asked.

“Yes?” Millie squeaked.

“I’m afraid you will not be leaving with your friends.”

“Mum, what’s going on?” Rose appeared beside Millie, and grabbed her hand. The rise of nervousness in Millie’s gut slowed.

“It’s okay, Rose, everything is going to be fine,” Mrs Granger answered, letting go of Millie and pulling her daughter close. “But you need to follow the evacuation instructions. Auntie Ginny is here with the Order, and she’ll get you to safety.”

“Safety from what? What about Millie?”

“Mildred is going to stay here, under our protection.”

“Why?”

Mrs Granger just shook her head, mustering her courage.

“We’ll explain later, Rose. I promise, sweetheart. For now, you need to go.”

Rose lingered a moment longer, looking between Millie and her mother, and then wrapping Millie in a tight hug.

“Be safe, okay.”

“Promise,” Millie nodded. Rose let her go and ran after the retreating crowds, looking back before she disappeared around the corner.

With a whoosh Miss Pentangle was standing beside them, and she looked ready for anything.

“I just heard. Where are we sending the students?”

“The dungeon, out through the tunnels. They were last spotted flying south, toward Cackle’s, so we can assume escape by air is out of the question.”

Miss Pentangle’s eyes flicked to Mildred.

“And why is Mildred still here?”

“Come,” the Minister nodded. “I will answer your questions, but first we must prepare.”

A wave of her hand and they were stood among a circle with a dozen or so witches and wizards, some who Millie recognised, some unfamiliar. Many glanced in her direction, evidently surprised by her presence in the circle.

“Pippa, it’s been awhile,” Mr Weasley nodded to her.

“Ron, always a pleasure. Let’s hope it’s in better circumstances next time.”

Mr Weasley was solemn, and the group fell silent as the Minister stepped forward.

“Thank you for coming at such short notice. The students are being evacuated as we speak, and should be long gone before our foe arrives. We have word that the fugitives have gathering old forces and are flying south, in this direction. We have very good reason to believe this is their destination.”

“What good reason?” A pale haired witch asked, though her voice was rather dreamy and Millie wasn’t sure she was actually paying attention.

“Apparently some who find peace and pardon wish to keep it. We were contacted privately by Narcissa Malfoy. She said they’d come to her, offering a return to power, and said they intended to find a new dark lord. A witch powerful enough to lead them, and young enough to turn to their ways.”

All eyes seemed to turn to Millie, the youngest among them.

“This is Mildred Hubble, and I’m afraid she seems to be the target of their madness. I don’t know why, I certainly don’t know how they have gauged your power. I only know that you’re name was explicitly mentioned. But they have tried this before, and they will fail again.”

“Why can’t Millie evacuate with the others? She needn’t be present for this fight.” Professor Potter’s brow was creased.

“If she leaves with the others, she will only be a beacon for them to track.”

“You’re using her as bait?”

“No, of course not, Harry. Wherever she goes, they will follow. This castle is a stronghold. There is nowhere safer to have this fight. We keep Mildred hidden, keep her safe, and we win. Defend this castle. Defend each other. We’ve beat them before, over and over. We’ll do it again.”

******

Millie stood absolutely still as Miss Pentangle wove a net of magical shielding around her, eyes focused, breathing steady.

“I know it’s scary, Mildred. And I’m so sorry that this is happening, but the truth is, there is no way they will succeed. I bet Professor McGonagall alone could take them all on and win without breaking a sweat.”

Millie knew Miss Pentangle was trying to make her feel better, and she tried to smile, but her fear and uncertainty were strong, and she couldn’t quite manage it convincingly.

“Why do they want me, though?”

“Once, they were a force to be feared. Now they are history, and their weakness is their greatest shame.”

“But why me?”

Miss Pentangle lowered her wand, finishing the last of her spells and taking in a steadying breath.

“I’d say it has something to do with Miss Hardbroom being your teacher, and your selection by the Triwizard Cup.”

Millie thought about that, though it didn’t seem like a whole answer.

“The Minister said they’d tried before. What did she mean?”

“You’re not the first they’ve tried to twist into a new Dark Lord, Mildred. They tried it once, before Voldemort returned the second time.” Miss Pentangle’s hand was balled into a fist, betraying her calm exterior.

“They tried it with Hecate. When she was young, and chosen by a Thestral wand, they tried to break her and remake her in their Dark Lord’s image, thinking her power might draw him out of death. But they failed, Mildred. That’s what’s important. And they will fail again.”

When Millie looked up, she found Miss Hardbroom staring across the entrance hall at her, eyes glassy.

Miss Pentangle spun to meet her gaze, but she said nothing. Miss Hardbroom looked between them, and opened her mouth to speak, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, she swept by them and out of the castle’s front door, onto the green that waited beyond.

“Hecate!” Miss Pentangle called, hurriedly following her out onto the grass, Millie close behind. “She deserved to know.”

Miss Hardbroom said nothing. She just levelled her gaze with the horizon, and before Miss Pentangle could speak again, she summoned an elegant black horn to her grip and lifted it to her lips. A long, deep note sounded, carrying out in every direction, vibrating deep in Millie’s body where she stood a few paces back.

Miss Hardbroom lowered the horn, eyes unmoving.

“Hecate, please. Listen to me. She deserved to know.”

But before Miss Hardbroom could speak her thoughts, an unnatural mist began to roll up the hill. And then Millie felt it. Like a false winter, a cold that nipped at her skin and sunk into her soul. She watched as the grass beneath their feet froze, the ice crawling toward Cackle’s like it had once before. But this ice didn’t feel the same. It wasn’t sapping at her magic, it was clawing at her heart, like daggers driving themselves into every bit of happiness she’d ever known.

She stumbled back a few paces toward the castle as the ice crept closer and closer and closer. And then she saw them.

Three hooded figures in rotting black robes, gliding over the frozen hill toward the castle. In a single moment, Millie understood every word she’d read about them. Every sentiment that hadn’t made sense was suddenly obvious.

She couldn’t remember ever having been happy, and didn’t have the energy to try.

“You summoned Dementors?” Miss Pentangle’s face read nothing less than absolute confusion.

“No. I didn’t. They’re here looking for him.”

Miss Hardbroom pushed Miss Pentangle behind her, placing herself between them and the oncoming shadow, her hands shaking in fists balled at her side. She stretched out her fingers and reached into her sleeve, drawing out a sturdy, jet black wand and clutching it tightly.

She closed her eyes against the world, and Millie watched the shaking in her hands steady, and her breathing draw level as she raised her wand, and she knew what she was doing. Finding a memory strong enough to withstand the hopelessness that was engulfing Millie’s mind. A memory strong enough to cast…

“ _Expecto Patronum_ …” Miss Hardbroom whispered, her tone firm but barely audible.  A silver shape swept from the end of her wand, swooping up and out, spreading its feathered wings and diving for the oncoming dementors. They seemed to shriek and recoil, fleeing the bird’s light as it chased them back, away from the castle.

Millie recognised Miss Hardbroom’s Patronus immediately. It was a Horned Owl, the same as Miss Pentangle.

“Hecate…” Pippa Pentangle breathed, meeting her eyes. “Was that…”

Miss Hardbroom lowered her wand and turned back to them, more determined than ever.

“Go, Pippa. You must go now. You can’t be out here when he comes.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“He doesn’t want you, Pippa. He will kill you, and it won’t mean anything to him.”

_But it will mean everything to her…_

“Hiccup…”

“Pippa. Please.” Miss Hardbroom was pleading unreservedly, and Miss Pentangle caved, nodded very slightly, taking Millie’s hand and snapping her fingers.

Nothing happened.

Her eyes grew wide and she tried again, but Millie didn’t feel anything.

“Hecate,” Miss Pentangle breathed, voice shaking. “I can’t…”

HB’s determination fell away to reveal a horrifying fear. Millie felt real terror take hold.

“We need to get inside. Now.”

Miss Pentangle pulled Millie toward the castle, HB following close behind as they dashed into the entrance hall. They heard footsteps and Professor Potter burst around the corner, wand drawn and a cloak in hand.

“Mildred!”

“We must hide her.”

“Yes, of course. Here,” the Professor grabbed the corners of the cloak in his hand and threw it over Mildred. It was a sheer material, and Millie could see right through.

Miss Pentangle gasped.

“An Invisibility Cloak?” Miss Hardbroom nodded, approving.

“Yes, and Mildred, listen to me. You cannot take it off. No matter what happens, or what you see. You must stay hidden. Do you understand?”

Millie nodded, but got no reaction.

“You’re invisible, Mildred, so I’ll assume you’re nodding.”

It would have been comical, if she wasn’t so afraid.

“Yeh… yes,” Millie croaked, her shaking hands grasping the material of the cloak.

“I will take Mildred,” Miss Hardbroom said, and it wasn’t a question. “Secure the castle, and meet us in the Hall when you are satisfied.”

Professor Potter nodded and hurried away, but Miss Pentangle stayed where she was, eyes unmoving from Miss Hardbroom’s face.

“Pippa, you need to go. Get away from me… before he arrives.”

Miss Pentangle didn’t answer. She just stepped forward, took Miss Hardbroom’s face in her hands and kissed her softly, eyes fluttering shut. It was only a moment before she broke away, touching her forehead to Miss Hardbroom’s and stroking her cheek gently.

“I love you,” Miss Pentangle whispered against her lips. “And I always will.”

And then she stepped back, summoning a thin wand into her hand with a twist of her fingers and then turning and disappearing down the corridor.

HB didn’t move. She just watched the spot where Miss Pentangle had been, her eyes glassy.

“Follow me closely, Mildred,” Miss Hardbroom murmured, and she turned and swept in the opposite direction, toward the main Hall.

They entered without incident, and Miss Hardbroom was halfway across the Hall when the doors on all sides slammed shut in a crack, the windows boarded up and the candlelight flickered. Millie knew instantly that it wasn’t HB’s doing, as she spun, wand in hand, to face the empty hall.

Beneath the invisibility cloak, Millie took a few steps back, shrinking against the wall and looking around for a place to hide.

She heard it like a whisper first, and it grew and grew until it was all too real. The high-pitched screeching laughter of a man who had long since gone mad. Miss Hardbroom stood firm, her knuckles white on the shaft of her wand.

“Show yourself.”

A long silence, and then just as Millie began to wonder if she’d imagined it, the voice spoke.

“Now why would I do that?”

The sound bounced off the walls and sent shivers down Millie’s spine.

“Face me, and you’ll see,” Miss Hardbroom offered, eyes still darting around for any sign of the intruder.

Not twenty paces in front of her, a black robed figure stepped from the folds of the air, wand clutched in one hand and a grin devoid of humour or kindness across his face. It was the grin of a mad man. He wore a half-skull mask that covered his eyes and obscured his identity well.

“We don’t want you anymore,” he snickered. “You’re a coward. Wretched and despicable. Nothing can save you. But the girl. She is so fresh, so young. She can be cut and moulded. Oh, we would do great things with her to lead us.”

“You will never lay a finger on her.”

“You couldn’t stop me if you tried. I am stronger than you will ever be!” He shrieked, feigning a lunge forward and cackling when Miss Hardbroom took an involuntary step back. “Little Hecate Hardbroom, still a weakling, I see. Pathetic. Just like your mother.”

“Don’t you dare,” Miss Hardbroom breathed.

The Death Eater raised his wand and bared his teeth. “Little Hecate Hardbroom is all grown up. Oh, your father would be proud.”

“Don’t you dare speak of my father.”

“Mad Mr Hardbroom,” the Death Eater crooned, his chilling tone almost sing-song. “Killed his own wife and son because the Dark Lord wished it.”

“I said,” Miss Hardbroom threw a streaking red curse at him. “ _Don’t you dare!_ ”

All pretence of calm was gone. Miss Hardbroom stood seething, eyes locked onto his wretched grin.

“ _Thanatos Hardbroom!_ ” The Death Eater screamed, deflecting the curse easily and spitting the words back at her with all the venom he could muster. “Thanatos Hardbroom! Thanatos… Hardbroom…”

Miss Hardbroom went very still, her wand tightening in her grip.

“Take off the mask, Father. Face me.”

Millie’s whole gut twisted, and she felt nauseous at the thought.

The Death Eater screeched a gruelling laughter before reaching up and tearing the mask free. He looked like Miss Hardbroom, and it was horrifying.

“Finally figured it out, Hecate. Not as clever as you thought. Couldn’t save your mother, Hecate. Couldn’t save your brother, Hecate.”

Miss Hardbroom didn’t move. Just stared him down, and his smile faltered.

“No,” Miss Hardbroom answered very softly. “I couldn’t save my mother. But I can do this.”

With another flick a bolt of green light shot from the end of her wand.

Thanatos ducked away, the smile falling form his face, replaced entirely with rage.

“Are you trying to kill your _own_ _father_ , Hecate? You would kill your _old man_?”

“Yes.”

Another bolt of green, and another, and another. Thanatos ducked and flicked the curses away, growing more desperate with every dodge, though it didn’t stop his taunting.

“Not as strong as you _thought_ , Hecate. Thestral wand and heart of ice and you still keep missing.”

His laughter echoed in the base of Millie’s spine and the depths of her mind, sinking into her heart like poisoned claws.

There was a crack and a splintering of wood, and Millie’s head snapped toward it, just in time to see the doors splinter inward. They showered the Hall with fragments of wood, and in the shattered doorway stood a figure in pink.

Miss Pentangle.

Only… it didn’t seem like her. Miss Pentangle was soft and sweet and kind. She brought you donuts and returned your kitten when you missed him.

This woman was dressed in Miss Pentangle’s clothes and had Miss Pentangle’s face, but her eyes screamed murder, and the curves of her mouth were devoid of their usual cheer. She looked like she might crack the very foundations of the castle if it would be in her favour.

“What’s this?” Thanatos grinned, head quirking to the side. “Another someone you care about, Hecate? Another someone who needs to _die_?”

Miss Pentangle charged into the room and took her stand beside Miss Hardbroom, wand raised. Thanatos’s face twisted in disgust.

“I know you,” he was suddenly furious. “You tried to take her away from me.”

He threw a curse at Miss Pentangle, but she flicked it aside with a wave of her wand.

“Wrong again, you depraved maniac. You will always be wrong.”

“How dare she, Hecate? I warned you. I said you had to keep away. I said no more Pippa Pentangle, or she would die. But you didn’t listen, did you? And now you’ve killed her.”

A bolt of green sped toward Miss Pentangle, but it missed with a simple dodge. Soon they were bearing down on Thanatos with cold efficiency in their spells that mad Millie uneasy.

Thanatos lashed out like an animal, dangerously unpredictable, throwing curses every way he could. And finally, a curse hit.

Miss Hardbroom cried out in pain, stumbling forward as her hands flew to her side, wand clattering from her grip as she fell to her knees. Miss Pentangle didn’t falter, just leapt in front of her, blocking another curse that came hissing for her chest.

Even as Millie watched blood seep through her fingers, Miss Hardbroom grabbed her wand and staggered to her feet again, one hand clutched to her side, teeth gritted against the pain.

With one final shout of determination, they cast their spells together, and Thanatos went flying back, hitting the stone wall hard and falling crumpled to the ground. In a moment Miss Pentangle was over him, kicking his wand aside and twisting an arm behind his back, forcing him onto his knees.

He shook the daze away and laughed at the pink witch that had him at her mercy.

“Two on one. Not a fair fight, Hecate. Not a fair fight at all.”

Miss Hardbroom stepped toward him, and Millie could see her breathing through the pain beneath her hands.

“It wasn’t a fair fight when I was eight, either,” she exhaled. “It wasn’t a fair fight when I was sixteen. It wasn’t a fair fight when I was 28. You don’t care about fair. You never did.”

Miss Hardbroom looked into his wild eyes, and the sneering smile that called her pathetic without saying a word. And she raised her wand, pointing it directly at his chest.

“Do it,” he grinned. “Prove that I succeeded.”

HB held her wand steady, her eyes glassy and unfocused.

Millie’s breathe caught. She wouldn’t… would she?

“I can’t do it,” Miss Hardbroom breathed, and her voice shook. “I won’t kill. Not even him.”

Thanatos spat at her, shrieking.

“Thestral wand and you can’t even kill me,” he laughed and screamed and lunged toward her.

Pippa yanked him back into her grip, voice dangerously low.

“Forgot about me?”

She raised her wand to his throat, and whispered very quietly into his ear. “ _Petrificus Totalus_.”

Thanatos’ body froze, his gleeful expression locked in place.

Miss Pentangle shoved him away from them and he thudded toward the open doorway, unable to move at all. Unable to run.

HB let out a heartbreaking sob and crumpled to the floor, tears flooding freely from her eyes. Miss Pentangle dashed forward and caught her in the last few feet of her fall, lowering her to the floor and wrapping her up in her arms, holding tight.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” she whispered, raising her hand to the pooling blood at HB’s ribs. She began murmuring something beneath her breath and light gathered among her fingers.

As Millie stood to approach them, wondering if the danger was gone, she felt the cold set into her bones and the relief drain from her heart. Ice crystals began to creep through the open doorway and climb the windows, frosting the room over and turning her breath to mist. Millie’s head turned slowly to the splintered doorway and she shrunk back as a gnarled black hand wrapped its fingers around the frame.

The Dementor pulled itself into the room and surveyed it with the same blank expression it did everything. Millie watched its faceless hood turned from Miss Pentangle and HB to Thanatos, lying still and unmoving on the cold stone. It glided toward him, and Millie swore she could hear a faint hissing as it hovered over the body.

Millie had never seen anyone die, and she hoped she’d never see it again. Not after this.

The Dementor leant down and Millie watched Thanatos’ soul drain from his body, the colour fleeing his already gaunt features, leaving a shell on the Hall’s stone floor.

The corpse went limp, the paralysis banished by death, and the Dementor turned its head toward Miss Hardbroom.

Miss Pentangle raised her hand at it, still clutching a whimpering HB tight.

“You have what you came for. Now leave this place.”

The Dementor’s stare was disconcerting, and it was made all the more terrible when in a single movement, it turned its head to where Millie stood beneath the invisibility cloak. It seemed to considered her for a long moment before Miss Pentangle began to summon a ball of light in her hand.

“I said leave.”

The Dementor hissed, turning back to Thanatos. It reached down and clasped his limp wrist in its long fingers and dragged his corpse from the Hall, leaving only cold and Miss Hardbroom’s pained weeping in its wake.

Millie stepped forward beneath the cloak, and watched Miss Pentangle’s spell take effect, the pain on HB’s face easing and giving way to relief.

“Better?” Miss Pentangle asked.

“For now,” Miss Hardbroom croaked, trying to pull herself up and failing, until Miss Pentangle took her and held her steady. With herself standing steadier, and her voice now more than a sobbing whisper, she asked a more pressing question. “Mildred?”

Millie ran toward them and pulled the cloak from her head. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

Millie stopped before she bowled them both over, but Miss Hardbroom had other plans. She grasped Millie’s arm and pulled her into a hug, clutching tight. And Millie let her, hugging her close as Miss Pentangle wrapped them both up and held them steady.

“I’m so sorry, Mildred. I’m so sorry you saw that,” Miss Hardbroom whispered.

“It’s okay,” Millie tried to smooth the shaking from her voice. “As long as you’re okay.”

“I will be,” Miss Hardbroom nodded stiffly, though it was clear as she let them go that she was still in pain.

From beyond the shattered doors, beyond even the entrance Hall, there came a thunderous roar and the sound of screaming. Miss Hardbroom’s head snapped up, eyes wide.

“Uma,” she whispered, and broke away, stumbling for the door. In a moment Miss Pentangle was at her side again, arm beneath her, holding her up as she struggled forward.

Millie followed closely behind her, the cloak in her hand forgotten as they came staggering into the entrance hall and with a flick of HB’s fingers the doors came crashing open. Millie’s eyes almost popped out of her head.

On the grassy field beyond, a colossal black dragon was decimating the dark forces that had threatened Cackle’s. In a swipe of its claws it knocked a dark witch from her broom, and with a snap of its jaws, it devoured another. Spells seemed to bounce off its scales like water from iron, and even those that hit only served to enrage it further.

“Uma,” Miss Hardbroom breathed again, and Millie realised that she was talking about the dragon. Suddenly, it clicked. This was who the horn had called. This was how she knew so much about raising dragons.

Uma roared again, and the Death Eaters scattered, dissolving into clouds of black smoke and taking to the sky, abandoning the fight. The dragon caught another in its jaw as he tried to flee, and threw him against the walls of the castle, shrieking at the sky as its prey escaped.

Unfortunately for them, dragons can fly.

Uma unfurled its wings, casting enormous shadows across the grass. It beat its wings, lifting off the ground and sending out gusts of wind that blew Millie’s hair into her face. She shut her eyes against it and when she looked up again, the dragon was in the air, bearing down on the trailing black shapes that sped across the sky.


	8. This is Where I Leave You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here!! Finally, the last chapter. Thank you so much for all your support and encouragement, I don't know if I could have done it without. I really, really hope you like how this turns out!  
> Title from 'Palace' by Hayley Kiyoko.  
> As always, you can find me @themistsoftime on tumblr.

On the orders of a witching medic, and backed by a very firm Miss Pentangle, HB was confined to her room for three days of rest and healing. She had objected, of course, mostly out of habit, but eventually caved and accepted her fate.

On the first day, Millie went straight from lunch to her door, Iggy dangling off her arm and chattering excitedly. He knew the way now, and recognised the signs and smells that meant HB was near, and that he might be getting a snack. She gave the door a firm, confident knock, and it opened to reveal Miss Pentangle smiling down at her. She pulled it back to let Millie in without question.

“I was wondering when you’d come.”

“Is Miss Hardbroom feeling better? Can I see her?”

“She’s just in bed, though it’s taken me an awful lot of effort to keep her there so no encouraging her to get up.”

“Yes, Miss Pentangle.”

HB was indeed in bed, and as Millie stepped into her room, she was struck by how quintessentially Miss Hardbroom it was. Not the cold, harsh face she sometimes turned to the world, but the softer HB, the one that loved potions and teaching and learning new things. Everything was crisp and clean but old, probably older than Millie. One wall was dominated by an enormous bookshelf bursting with books and papers. Above HB’s head hung a stunning portrait of a black dragon with fierce purple eyes, and Millie recognised Uma immediately.

HB lowered her book, and smoothed the sheets that confined her to the bed.

“Mildred,” she nodded. “What can I do for you?”

Iggy was out of her arms in a moment, gliding through the air to HB’s bed and dashing up to her, chirping happily when she offered her hand and stroked him under the chin. He nattered softly as he curled up on her lap and promptly fell asleep.

“Iggy missed you,” Millie grinned, and to be fair it was a perfectly reasonable explanation. “And I wanted too… I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I am recovering at a steady pace. Steadier than my carers would believe.”

“In that case,” Millie stepped to the bed and produced her copy of _From Egg to Inferno: a Dragon-Keeper's Guide_ , with the torn out pages long since magically repaired, and flipped to a bookmark, “I was wondering if you could help me understand something?”

“I will try.”

The truth was, Millie had a fairly good grasp on the topic at hand, but she was pretty sure HB would be bored out of her mind, locked away in her room, and thought she might enjoy the company. Not that Miss Pentangle wasn’t good company too.

It was clear in the way HB set aside her book and took up Millie’s that she was right. She went back the next day too, but this time with no pretence, and HB was seated by the fire wrapped in a thick blanket. When she saw Millie in the door, she gestured to the chess board in front of her.

“Do you play?”

“Umm, not really,” Millie shook her head.

“Then sit. You must learn.”

She spent the afternoon hunched over the chessboard, absorbing everything she could. HB won, obviously, but that didn’t mean Millie denied her a second game, and then a third.

On the third day, she finally plucked up the courage to ask HB something that had been bugging her since that day with Thanatos and the Death Eaters.

They were sat beside the fire, the chessboard in play once again, and Millie took the plunge.

“Miss Hardbroom?”

“Yes, Mildred?” She answered without taking her eyes off the board.

“I was reading up on Patronuses after our detention, and I read somewhere that… umm, that if you love someone, like, in a really special way, a Patronus can change to match theirs. And, seeing that that you and Miss Pentangle have the same Patronus…”

“Yes, Mildred,” HB cut into her musings, shifting a bishop across the board. “You’re deductions are correct. Though I suppose I should not have underestimated your desire to become invested in other people’s business.”

She didn’t seem angry though. Only a bit embarrassed.

“Was it yours that changed?” Millie asked, courage gathering in her gut.

“Yes,” HB finally looked at her properly. “When I was seventeen.”

“That’s… really young. What was it before?”

“It was a dragon. Your move,” HB nodded to the forgotten chessboard.

“A dragon?” Millie’s eyes grew wide. “I didn’t even know you could have a dragon.”

“It’s not common, but certainly not unheard of.”

“Did you mind? When it changed, I mean.”

“I did, but… for different reasons.”

“Does that mean,” Millie bit her lip, eyes cast toward the board, suddenly unwilling to meet HB’s gaze. “Does that mean she’s like… your soulmate?”

Miss Hardbroom didn’t say anything for a very long moment, and when Millie finally looked up, her expression was unreadable. Millie’s brain started scrambling. Had she gone too far? Had she just ruined everything? Was HB going to throw her out and never let her back in and give her detention for…

“No.” HB broke into her stumbling thoughts, and smoothed the creases from her creaseless dress. “It is only an indication of my feelings for her. It doesn’t speak to whether that feeling is mutual. I am simply… very fortunate.”

Millie grinned at that, and HB sat up a little straighter, eyeing Millie’s chess pieces across the board.

“If you do not move, I will take it as a forfeit.”

***

The Third Task arrived far too soon, and all the fear and uncertainty surrounding the evacuation and battle seemed to evaporate as excitement swept the halls of Cackle’s Academy. Everyone’s favourite topic of speculation was what the Third Task would be, though no one knew any better than the next person, and some of the theories were outright insanity. Mostly, Millie just tried to stick with her friends and not think too hard about what was to come. The first two tasks had been entirely manageable. She saw no reason why that would change for the third.

When she woke that morning and went down to breakfast with Rose and a very nervous Elsie, they ate in relative silence as the rest of the hall chattered away brightly. Millie knew that a lot of her nervousness came from the fact that when the task was done, everything would go back to how it used to be.

Rose would be going home. And Elsie, and Scorpius and all her new friends. The school would feel so empty without all the extra students and teachers, and Millie was dreading it. Sure, the Tournament hadn’t been all sunshine and rainbows, but it had been good, and fun, and she was going to miss what the school felt like while it was here.

Then there was the task. If she won, she had to beat Elsie and Scorpius, and she didn’t really know how she felt about that. As she sat mulling it all over porridge, she felt a tap on her shoulder, and looked up to find Ethel standing behind her. It wasn’t a rough tap, and she wasn’t looking especially threatening, and it left Millie completely unsure how to read the situation.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Ethel mumbled, barely meeting her eyes.

Rose lowered her spoon to her bowl, eyeing Ethel suspiciously. Millie was very confused, but didn’t see any reason to say no. As she stood, Rose sat up a bit straighter, eyes locked onto Ethel.

“If you try anything,” she began, and Ethel just shook her head.

“I won’t. I promise.”

She led Millie out of the hall and down the corridor and into an empty classroom, closing the door behind them.

“So?” Millie turned back to her, tension rising in her muscles.

Ethel took a deep breath and stood up straight, playing with her sash absentmindedly. “I know what the Third Task is.”

Millie’s heart lurched. “Really? How?”

“I saw them bringing some stuff in, and I overheard Professor Potter and Professor Longbottom talking.”

“Oh,” Millie felt very sceptical. What would Ethel want in exchange? “And?”

“And,” Ethel breathed out, dropping her sash and tucking her hands into her pockets. “I’ll tell you, if you promise to help me with something.”

“Help you with what?” Here came the catch.

“I… I want to ask Felicity out,” Ethel blushed, scuffing her foot against the stone floor. Millie’s eyes grew wide, and a few puzzle pieces fell into place. “But I don’t know how.”

“You were jealous!” Millie burst out, and Ethel rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“Yes, okay. I was jealous. Rose is… really cool. And she always stood up for you, but I didn’t know you were like, girlfriends, and I… I didn’t know if I should ask or…”

“I’ll help,” Millie grinned, because there wasn’t really a question in her mind. Maybe it would even get Ethel off her back for a while. “But you don’t have to tell me about the last task. It would be kinda of…”

“It’s a duel,” Ethel cut her off. “You have to duel the other Champions.”

“A duel?” Millie choked. “Like, a Section 7?”

“No, those are only for settling disputes and stuff. This is a duel for sport. No one loses their magic or anything. But the winner is the Triwizard Champion, and gets the cup and glory and 1000 galleons.”

Millie’s mind was reeling. “I have to tell the others.”

She was running to the door before Ethel could get another word out.

“What about me and… you know?”

She turned back as she yanked the door open.

“Come to my room tonight, and we’ll help you out.”

“We?”

“Yeah, Rose and me.”

Before Ethel could object, Millie was dashing off down the corridor to tell Elsie and Scorpius about what lay ahead.

***

Miss Cackle bustled over the where the three Champions hovering among the crowds of students waiting outside the closed doors of the Hall.

“Ready, Champions?” she smiled. They gave very nervous and half-hearted nods, and Miss Cackle guided them toward a nearby door. When she pulled it open, it took Millie a moment to figure out who she was looking at. Then she saw her mum, and it clicked.

“Mum!” she beamed, a fair scoop of nervousness melting away as she rushed forward to wrap her in a hug.

“Millie-love,” Julie drew her close, trying to subdue the shaking of her hands. For a long moment, Millie didn’t let go. She just enjoyed being safe in her mother’s arms, and enjoyed not having to worry about duelling or dragons or departing friends. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Millie nodded, leaning back and shoving back the urge to cry. “I just really missed you.”

“I missed you too, love.”

Millie glanced back to the others, and felt a bit self-conscious that she only had her mum. Usually she didn’t think about it, but seeing the McGonagall and Malfoy families, she minded just a little.

Elsie’s family was all tall and spindly like Professor McGonagall, who stood out among them, and they all wore pieces of the same green tartan in various ways about their bodies. A tall woman, who might have been Elsie’s mother, stood clutching her daughter to her chest, eyeing the other Champions with suspicion.

Scorpius’s family stood a little away from the others, and were all very pale and very tall. There was just three people, and Millie guessed they were his mother, father, and grandmother. They would have incredibly distinguished and imposing, and in many ways they still were, only Millie couldn’t help but notice the lines of wear on their robes, and the scuffed leather of their shoes.

Millie just hugged her mother tighter, and breathed in her familiar smell.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Of course I came, love. And I hope you don’t mind, but there might be a few joining us.”

Before Millie could open her mouth to ask who, there was a soft whoosh and something melted into existence behind her.

She spun sharply to find the Minister for Magic and Mr Weasley smiling brightly down at her.

“Well met, Minister,” Millie bowed hurriedly, touching a hand to her forehead.

“Well met, Mildred,” the Minister mirrored the greeting. “Congratulations on making it to the Final Task.”

“Thank you, Minister.”

Mr Weasley offered her a hand and a grin. “Nice to finally meet you properly, Mildred.”

Millie took the hand and gave a firm shake with a certainty that she wasn’t feeling. “You too, sir. But umm,” she tugged on her mum’s sleeve without looking up at her. “Why did you invite the Minister, Mum? Also… how?”

“I didn’t,” Julie laughed, and Millie looked to her, confused. “Honestly, I wouldn’t know how.”

“I did,” another voice said, and Rose stepped out from behind her parents, smiling nervously. “I hope that’s okay.”

Millie just grinned and pulled her into a hug, trying to keep it chill in front of their parents. “Yeah, that’s totally okay.”

Another whoosh and Miss Hardbroom and Miss Pentangle materialised beside Millie, only slightly startling her mum.

“Apologies for our tardiness,” HB didn’t miss a beat, greeting the assembled adults. Miss Pentangle gave them all a bright smile and a swift greeting before stepping toward the McGonagall clan, while Professor McGonagall left her family to speak with the Malfoys.

HB lifted her arm into view and revealed Iggy hanging from her sleeve, chattering indignantly.

“I’m afraid he would not be soothed, Mildred. With your permission, I will care for him while you complete the third task.”

“He was okay this morning,” Millie frowned, running a hand down his scales.

“Yes, well I fear your telepathic bond is forming, and your own nervousness is making him uncomfortable.”

Millie’s face fell. “Sorry, Iggy. I’ll try to calm down, I promise.”

Iggy latched onto her hand and scampered up to her shoulder, nipping at her ear affectionately as behind them, Miss Cackle raised her voice to get their attention, and the three gathered families turned toward her.

When Miss Cackle announced the Third Task, Millie tried her best to appear like this was brand new information that she had most certainly never ever heard before and had not spent the morning frantically researching with Elsie and Scorpius. The way Miss Hardbroom has eyeing her, she had a feeling she did not succeed.

“Mildred Hubble, being the first to complete the Second Task, will automatically obtain a place in the Final Round. Elspeth McGonagall and Scorpius Malfoy will duel for the second spot in the Final.”

At that Millie really did blink. She was in the final round already? She’d never even duelled anyone before!

“If the families could take their seats, we will begin shortly.”

Miss Cackle opened the door to shepherd their families out. Julie gave her daughter another tight hug and Mr Weasley gave her an unexpected high five and told her she was going to crush this, even if she was from Cackle’s Academy.

Rose stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek when her parents backs were turned.

“Good luck, Millie.”

“Thanks.”

And then Rose was stepping out the door as well, leaving Millie alone with Miss Cackle, Elsie and Scorpius, apprehension bubbling in her chest.

***

Millie couldn’t stand still. She paced back and forth alone in the room, listening to the cheering and gasping crowd outside the door, but unable to tell who was winning or what was even happening. There came an even louder, more thunderous cheer that seemed to vibrate in Millie’s core, and she figured someone had probably just won.

She took in a deep breath and scratched Iggy under the chin, trying desperately to crush the rising terror in her stomach.

The door clicked open and she spun around to find HB hovering there, face hard.

“It is time.”

Millie nodded, pulling at her sleeve again, but didn’t move, couldn’t bring her legs to walk. Who had won? Who would she duel? What if she won? What if she lost?

HB stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. She stood awkwardly with her hands by her side, formulating a thought.

“Mildred.”

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom,” Millie stilled, gulping.

 “I hope you know… I hope it’s… I am very proud to be your teacher, Mildred. Sometimes, I am concerned that you do not know it.”

“I… I didn’t know,” Millie shook her head.

“Well, now you do,” HB nodded, looking quietly satisfied. “And Mildred. No matter what comes if this Task, or of this whole Tournament, know that you have become more in these last few months than I ever thought possible when you fell into that pond on Selection Day.”

Millie didn’t even try to supress her grin.

“That said, winning is not optional.”

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom.”

“Good. Now go,” she instructed, pulling the door back open and scooping Ignatius off her shoulders.

The Hall was almost unrecognisable with everything cleared away. They’d set up a very long, very sturdy black platform that ran the length of the middle. Huge school flags hung from the beams of the ceiling, and rows and rows of spectators seats had been lined up parallel with the platform.

In the front row sat the families, her mum looking rather nervous beside the Minister on one hand, and Miss Pentangle on the other.

As Millie walked down the cleared aisle toward the steps, she could feel the anticipation radiating off the crowds. She climbed trying to see who stood on the other end, who had won the first duel, which friend she’d have to face.

At the other end of the platform, wand in shaking hand, stood Scorpius. His hair was a little tousled, and his robes a little askew, but he looked ready, and determined.

Millie squared her shoulders and took a deep breath.

She could do this. She could do this. She knew the spells. She knew the magic. She just needed to try. That’s what they’d promised, that first day on the steps, after the Cup had chosen them. They’d promised to try.

HB was proud of her. Rose was watching. Her mum was there. Everyone’s eyes were on her. She could do this.

She took the half dozen steps to the centre of the platform and Scorpius did the same, meeting her in the centre. They raised their wands to their faces, brought them down swiftly to their sides, and bowed, just like Miss Cackle had instructed. When they levelled eyes again, Millie gave him a tentative smile.

“Good luck,” she whispered, and she meant it.

“You too,” Scorpius murmured back apologetically. “Still friends no matter what, right?”

“Still friends,” Millie nodded, and they spun around, marching back into place.

Millie twisted on her heals and shifted into what seemed like a suitable stance. Scorpius did the same, and the room became very still.

“On the count of three,” Miss Cackle’s voice rang out. “One, two… three.”

“ _Flipendo_!”

“ _Stupefy_!”

“ _Deprimo_!” Millie threw up a shield and deflected Scorpius’ attack even as he ducked away from hers.

“ _Confundo_!”

“ _Cantis_!”

Again they waved their wands, and again, they missed.

Millie stepped forward, steady. She slipped one hand behind her back and began to gather a ball of magic out of Scorpius’ view while she pointed her wand at him.

“ _Steleus_!” She shouted, and as she said it she threw the ball of power at him, hoping one would hit.

“ _Expelliarmus_!” He shouted, and then “ _Deprimo_!” as he blocked her spell, but her ball of magic hit, breaking against his leg and sending him stumbling forward.

Millie didn’t have time to react though, as her own wand leapt from her hand, tossing itself across the platform and rolling to a stop between them.

This was it. No wand. She didn’t know any duelling magic that didn’t need a wand.

Scorpius raised a determined hand, leaning heavily on one foot.

“ _Petrificus totalus_ ,” he said firmly, and the spell burst from his wand and came charging for Millie.

She threw her hands up, a single resounding thought crashing into her mind.

“ _No!”_

She felt her magic spill out, directionless and undisciplined, storming toward her quarry in a whirlwind of unseen energy.

Her breath caught. She waited for the spell to hit. Waited for the applause to break out. Waited for someone to tell her she’d done just fine.

But nothing happened.

Millie’s eyes fluttered open, and she looked to the silent crowds. Wide stares blinked up at her from the seats below, and Millie turned to Scorpius, wand still raised in her direction.

And there, in the dead centre of the platform, quivering and flittering, fighting against the command to fly and the command to stop, was Scorpius’s curse.

Millie’s eyes grew very wide, and she sucked in a breath. How did she do that? Well, did it matter?

She seized hold of the magic that had erupted around her, engulfing the ball of angry energy that hovered before them. She bit her lip, unsure if this would even work.

It was worth a shot, right? She shoved forward, and Scorpius’ spell went soundlessly whizzing back toward him.

He leapt aside, his own curse barely missing as it slammed into the wall behind. He stumbled up, shaking his leg against the numbness taking hold.

Millie spotted her wand abandoned on the platform and she leapt forward, hand outstretched.

But Scorpius raised his wand and beat her too it.

“ _Accio_!” he cried, and her wand went spinning into his hand before she reached it. He raised his wand at her, and she staggered back, ready to dodge.

“ _Stupefy_!”

Millie ducked, and Scorpius lifted her own wand against her.

“ _Stupefy_!”

Nothing happened. He waved it again. “ _Stupefy_!”

With a crack and a shower of sparks Millie’s wand backfired and Scorpius dropped it with a yelp, shaking his hand. “What the…?”

Millie didn’t waste a second, raising her hand.

“ _Raven’s eye and leaf of pond, bring me back my magic wand!_ ”

The wand leapt back across the space and into her grip. She sifted through strategies as she staggered to her feet, remembering spells and tossing aside the ones that seemed too cruel or ineffective.

They raised their wands in unison, and Millie met his eyes, ready to strike back.

“ _Immobulus_!” His wand twitched, and another spell came speeding toward her.

And then in her musings, she remembered.

She remembered the way his pants seemed a little too tight and his robes a little too short. And how his families robes were just the same. And she remembered the bursting bag she’d tucked away under her bed, and Vault 918, filled with gold and books and the deeds to an Estate, waiting for her.

And she remembered how Rose had said he was a black sheep at Hogwarts, and he had only one real friend, and nobody talked to him except to tease or to make fun of his family. And she remembered how kind he’d been, how willing to share what he knew and how generous he was with his laughter. And how, on that first day, they’d both promised to try.

And she remembered what that felt like to be the worst witch. And she remembered how little she really cared about some cup, or some nonsense about eternal glory.

And she bit back her counter-curse, letting his spell hit.

Her body froze, and she pitched forward, instantly locked and unable to move or stop herself from crashing to the hard wooden platform and rolling over, her face looking to the banners above.

There was a long, tense few seconds, and then the hall erupted into thunderous applause. And she felt feet storm onto the stage, vibrating beneath her, and inside, beneath her frozen face, she was smiling.

A shadow fell across her face, and Millie watched HB step into view above her, face stony. She waved her hand and Millie went limp, the spell dissolving.

“I did not endorse losing, Mildred.”

Millie just grinned up at her, seeing the twitch of HB’s lips as she tried to hold a smile at bay.

“Sorry, Miss Hardbroom.”

“Hmmm,” HB raised an eyebrow, and Ignatius chirped down at her. “I’m sure you are.”

Before she could say anything else, Millie was being scooped up by her mum, who eyed her with serious concern.

“Are you okay? Did it hurt? Does it still hurt? On a scale of one to ten how bad is the pain.”

Millie just laid a hand on her arm and tried to sooth her with as much confidence as she could muster.

“I’m fine, Mum. I promise. It’s really okay.”

Julie seemed sceptical but she was cut off as Rose bound up to them and wrapped Millie in a tight hug.

“That was amazing! The way you stopped his spell like that! I didn’t even know that was possible!”

“Neither,” Millie grinned as Rose pulled back, but kept a grip on her hand.

“And Millie…” Rose added, voice low as she leant to whisper in her ear. “That was really kind of you. Letting him win.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Millie blushed, trying and failing not to give herself away.

Rose just kissed her cheek gently. “Sure you don’t.”

“Millie.”

She turned to find Scorpius standing behind them, hand outstretched, with a huge grin he couldn’t shake. “Thanks for a good fight.”

Millie shook his hand, smiling back. “Yeah, good match. Umm, sorry about your leg. It’s okay, right?”

“Just a bit numb,” he shook his head.

“That’s a relief. I was kind of worried for a second.”

“No, it’s all good. And thanks Millie. For being super cool.”

Millie watched the still cheering crowds draw nearer.

“You should go and celebrate… Scorpius Malfoy, winner of the Triwizard Tournament.”

Before he could say another word, he was engulfed by Albus, who pulled him away and with a handful of others, lifted him onto their shoulders and began a rowdy rendition of the Hogwarts Song, carrying him from the room even as Maud and Enid rushed Millie with a hug of their own.

***

They had one week, after that, until the term was over and the visiting schools would be departing. Most of the day was spent in classes, and most of the evenings Millie spent with her friends. They laughed, just as usual, but there was always the persistent shadow of Rose and Elsie having to leave soon, and it tainted their laughter just a little. They promised to write, of course, and see each other in the breaks. But it wouldn’t be the same, and they all knew it.

On the last Wednesday, Millie had two free periods at the end of the day, and she decided that a walk with Iggy would maybe do her good. The clouds that gathered in her mind were especially dark as she counted the days until Rose would be going home. She didn’t want her to leave, but it wasn’t like she had a choice. Millie didn’t even know if Rose would want to see her anymore, once she’d gone. She was so smart, and pretty, and funny, and fierce. She must have a dozen girls and boys after her, clawing for her attention. Why would she need Millie?

She took Iggy down toward the woods, the crisp air biting at her skin and making her shiver.

“ _Accio_ coat.”

She waited a few moments before she spotted the very coat she’d had in mind swooping over the hill toward her. She wrapped herself up, and found it a significant improvement.

They continued on, Ignatius darting through the trees around her, chasing birds and insects along the path, but never straying far.

She reached the creek that flowed through the centre of the wood, and stopped where it was at its widest, a few feet across and bubbling away down its carved course. Everything would go back to normal, but it also wouldn’t. It never could. She had a wand, so there was that. And a dragon, for now at least. And HB was in love with Miss Pentangle, so maybe they’d have less homework next semester. But Rose would be gone, and that would be… it would be…

“Hey.”

Millie looked up to find that very Rose standing a little way down the path, smiling sheepishly.

“Hey,” Millie grinned.

“I… followed your coat,” Rose gestured, to explain. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not one bit,” Millie shook her head.

Rose stepped up beside her, watching the water gurgle by, not saying anything more. They just watched Iggy splash in the creek, snapping at the water and the insects that lived within, clambering over the rocks and falling into the deepest parts with clumsy abandon.

“I was wondering if you’d want to come to dinner with my family, in the break? You could bring your mum too, if she wanted to come.”

“So you… you want to stay friends, after you have to go?”

“I mean, only if it’s what you want? And I was hoping… maybe we could stay more than just friends?”

Millie nodded softly, warmth spreading in her chest. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

She glanced over to where Rose’s hand hung by her side, and tried her best to surreptitiously slip it into her own. It wasn’t as subtle as she thought, but Rose just blushed and bit back a smile.

Iggy leapt out of the water, flapping his way toward them with a squawk. He swooped overhead, splattering Millie’s face with icy water before landing on a tree branch above and shaking himself dry.

Millie squealed, scrunching up her face against the cold water and Rose just laughed, pulling her sleeve from her jacket and wiping Millie’s face gently to soak up the water.

“Cold?”

“Very,” Millie shivered, letting Rose get the last few droplets. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Rose dropped her hand back to her side, her face bright with a smile of pure amusement, and Millie felt her heart skip a beat. She wanted to kiss her so badly. But she’d never kissed anyone. What if she was terrible?

Rose shifted closer, her smile falling just a little when her eyes flicked to Millie’s lips. Millie wasn’t sure what to do, so she did nothing, her breath suddenly coming short.

And then Rose was leaning in, pressing her lips to Millie’s, her eyes closed. Millie’s own fluttered shut, and all she could feel was the warmth of Rose against her, kissing her softly.

It only lasted a moment and then she was leaning back, eyes opening slowly to find Rose looking at her, trying to read her face.

“Was that… was that okay?”

Millie said nothing, just took her other hand and gently pulled her forward again.

***

“Mildred Hubble.”

Millie looked up to find HB standing at the castle doors, peering down at them. She didn’t feel at all compelled to let go of Rose’s hand, and instead clutched it a tad tighter.

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom?”

“I’m afraid you will have to say farewell to Miss Granger-Weasley. I require your assistance.”

Rose didn’t fight it, just gave her a soft hug and murmured “I’ll see you later,” and then ducked around Miss Hardbroom and disappeared into the castle.

“Is young Ignatius with you?”

As if in answer, Iggy poked his head out of Millie’s coat, peering at HB and chirping happily.

“Good. Take my hand,” she instructed, offering it.

Millie took it, still very lost, and she felt the uncomfortable shift of a Transference as they blinked back into existence in an unfamiliar place. It was a forest clearing, a fairly sizeable one, with high trees and soft grass, the clouds above acting like a sort of very high ceiling.

“Where are we?”

“Not far. Only far enough.”

“Far enough for what?”

“You will see,” HB said dismissively, stepping forward and examining the sky.

There was a soft thudding sound, and Millie’s heart sped up. Where had she heard that before?

It only took a moment for the answer to become clear, as a shadow fell across her face and her head snapped up to see Uma, the colossal black dragon, dropping from the sky. It alighted in the centre of the clearing, the grass disappearing beneath its enormous form.

HB stepped forward without pause, and Uma leant its head down to greet her, pushing its face against her palm and looking her over with one brilliant purple eye.

_You are late._

Millie heard it like an unfamiliar thought in her own mind, but couldn’t pin it down.

“Yes, well unfortunately, I couldn’t find Mildred,” HB replied, and Millie stood mouth agape, and the dragon’s head turned to her, eyes critical.

_I see… you are the tardy one._

“I’m sorry,” Millie stammered, realising that Uma was telepathic _… like for real have a chat to a dragon telepathic_. “I was going on a walk and then…”

_No need to explain_. And there was a soft chuckle in her mind as the dragon settled down behind HB, lowering itself to the ground properly.

“This is Uma,” Miss Hardbroom nodded to the dragon that dwarfed her. “She is… my oldest friend.”

She. She was a girl dragon.

Suddenly Iggy was on her shoulder, staring wide eyed, and chirping nervously.

_Well, well, you must be Ignatius. What a strong little chap._

Iggy chattered excitedly, flapping his wings and leaping from Millie’s shoulder. He swooped over and landed before Uma, and he seemed like a grain of sand against an ocean, but it didn’t trouble him at all. He scuttled forward, climbing onto Uma’s head, spinning in a circle and finding a comfortable resting place among the ridges of her brow.

If dragons could roll their eyes, that’s what Uma did, but she didn’t shake him and Millie was thankful for that. Uma peered closer at Millie, who blushed and tried not to look terrified under the scrutiny of the dragon.

_I have certainly heard a lot about you, little one._

“Oh,” Millie croaked. “What kind of things?”

_Just things… Mostly from Hecate, sometimes from her pink one._

“Her pink… do you mean Miss Pentangle?”

_Yes, that pink one._

Millie grinned. Was there a more apt description? Probably not.

“So how did you meet HB?” she asked, raising her eyes and levelling them with Uma.

_She was my blood, when I had no others. We were children when we met, both under the cruel shadow of the House of Hardbroom._

“When HB… was a child?” Millie cocked an eyebrow, and she remembered what Miss Pentangle had said. How they had tried to break her and remake her in their Dark Lord’s image, and she wondered where Uma fit into the puzzle.

_Indeed. Barely younger than I._

“Are you… fully grown up then?”

The chuckle again, and Millie felt a little embarrassed by what was clearly a stupid question.

_Dragons do not ‘grow up’, we age eternally. I will outlive you both, and your little friend here will outlive you also._

“Right, sorry.”

_Do not apologise. This is new, and you are young._

“On that note,” HB stepped to Uma and ran a hand behind her ear, scratching right where Uma clearly liked it. “We have a suggestion, Mildred. I hope you will consider it.”

“Consider what?”

_Ignatius is young, but he will grow fast, and one day, he will be too large to keep under your wing._

“You… you want to take him away?”

_Certainly not. He will always be your blood. You will teach him love and kindness. But I can teach him to be a dragon, if you will permit it._

“You want to… to teach him?”

_In a sense._

Millie glanced to where Iggy sat between Uma’s ears, purring contently.

“Yeah, I think that’d be… cool. Be good. Smart.”

_Excellent._

“Then it is settled,” HB nodded with finality. “But the hour is late, and it would not do to miss dinner.”

_Only dinner, Hecate?_

“I promised the Headmistress we would return to Cackle’s before the sun set.”

_Return to your pink one, I think you mean._ Uma snorted, lowering her head gently and letting Millie scoop Iggy off her crown.

_You have taken good care of this little fireball, Mildred._

“Thanks,” Millie shrugged. “But I had help.”

_Do not be too modest, little one. We must take credit for our achievements._

She gave HB the side eye of the century, but the potions mistress just let out a long sigh and touched her forehead to the dragons.

“Safe hunting. Take care.”

_I’d say the same, but you’ve already made quite the catch._

“Enough of that,” HB said sternly, though she didn’t seem at all serious, stepping back to Millie and taking her hand.

_Say hello to the pink one from me._

Miss Hardbroom said nothing, just pursed her lips and waved her hand. With a whoosh Millie was back on the lawn of the castle, the sun setting spectacularly in the sky behind them. But HB hadn’t taken two steps when there was a soft pop and Miss Pentangle materialised a few feet away, blinking to find focus in her surroundings.

“Pippa,” HB said, stopping abruptly.

Miss Pentangle spun on the spot to face Miss Hardbroom, her face a confusing mixture of emotions Millie couldn’t read. She stepped in and kissed HB deeply but briefly, leaning back but not letting go.

“Hecate, thank the goddess. Where were you? I looked everywhere!”

“With Uma, in the mountains,” HB explained, forgetting her caution and closing the gap between them further, taking Miss Pentangle’s hand. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, everything’s fine. But there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Need I be concerned?”

“It’s good news, I promise.”

“I don’t see what good news could have you so frantic.”

“I can… uh, I can’t explain. I just… I have to show you.”

“Show me what, Pippa?”

Miss Pentangle hurriedly summoned a wand to her hand and raised it, breathing deeply.

“ _Expecto Patronum_.”

From the tip of Miss Pentangle’s wand, a silver shape burst forth, taking to the air and leaving a trail of light behind.

“Yes, Pippa, I’ve seen your Patronus before. It’s very…”

HB trailed off, eyes fixed on the slender, silver dragon that glided effortlessly in spirals around them.

“It’s a dragon,” Miss Pentangle said softly, turning back to HB. “Just like yours, when we younger.”

HB took in a shuddering breath, tears drawing tracks down her cheeks.

“It changed, I don’t know when. I cast it to deliver a message, and it was just… a dragon. And I just…” Miss Pentangle reached up and brushed a tear from Miss Hardbroom’s face. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

HB drew her into a kiss, and Millie turned away, not wanting to pry, but still endlessly fascinated. She felt the twist of Transference and found herself back in her room alone, a grin slowly spreading across her face.

***

“I got you something,” Millie blushed, holding out the small package to Rose.

“You… did?”

“I hope that’s okay.”

“That’s… really sweet Millie. But, I’m sorry, I didn’t get you anything,” Rose looked embarrassed as she accepted the little wrapped box tentatively.

“That’s okay. It was a surprise on purpose. But don’t open it now. Wait until you’re on the train.”

“Okay, if you say.”

“I do,” Millie nodded, and pulled her into a hug. She tried to pour out her heart in the strength of the squeeze. “I miss you already.”

***

As soon as Rose found an empty cabin, she dumped her bags and ripped the paper off the small package. Inside, she found a little black box with a pocket watch sitting smartly within. When she clicked it open, the back was as clear as a silver mirror, and the watch face was set with a small black dragon scale.

A note tumbled from the wrappings, and she snatched it up.

> _So you don’t forget me. I have one to match, and if you tap Iggy’s scale, I’ll feel you calling and we can talk._
> 
> _I’ll see you soon, I hope._
> 
> _Millie_

Rose slipped the chain over her head and took her seat, staring out the window at the green fields rushing by as tears of quiet happiness and heartache sprung to her eyes.

This wasn’t the end. They had more story to come, and she knew it. This was just a temporary interlude, before the main event.


End file.
